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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



SONG OF THE WAHBEEK 



THE SONG OF THE 
WAHBEEK 



Henry Pelham Holmes Bromwell 



T/iis the tale there luas of yore 
Which the singer told before; 
He ivhose nvords are nvith the echoes 
Of the language heard no more 

Since the earth grenjj old: 
Those the deeds nuhich feiu may dare, 
That the lo've on earth most rare 
Which the lo<ve-re cor ding angels 
Wrote in jeiveled symbols fair 

On their leagues of gold. 



COPYRIGHT 

HENRIETTA E. BROMWELL, 

PUBLISHER. 

DENVER, COLORADO, U. S. A 









1^0 



^ 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 19Q3, 

By HENRIETTA E. BROMWELL, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 

Published in 1909. 



The W. F. Robinson Ptg. Co., Denver, Colorado. 



LIBRARY of COftiGRESS 
Two CoDies Received 

MAY 6 iy03 

.,. Copy fit;. -It tfitry ^ 



PREFACE, 



Henry Pelham Holmes Bromwell died in Den- 
ver, Colorado, in 1903. 

He was born in Baltimore, Maryland, in 1823, 
his parents being Henry Broughton Bromwell, and 
Henrietta, daughter of Lemuel Holmes of Plymouth 
County, Massachusetts. 

He was familiar with the character of the Indian 
and of the pioneer, and had spent all the most impres- 
sionable years of his boyhood in the beautiful forests 
which at that time surrounded the grand prairies of 
Illinois, where lingered many traditions of the past, 
and where each rock, tree and stream teemed with 
suggestions of the religion of the people of the wilder- 
ness, and where were many varieties of birds, animals 
and flowers, now no more found in those parts of the 
world. 

In Cumberland, a most romantic little hamlet 
(now gone and forgotten), on the old ^^ITational 
Road,'' near the present town of Casey, far from 
schools, churches, and with only the Bible, a copy of 
Shakespeare's plays, some few Latin and Greek books 



Peeface. 

belonging to his father (one of which was a collection 
of Latin hymns), and a few works on history, alto- 
gether constituting a library of great magnitude for 
that time and place, his education was begun, with the 
forest for his most absorbing study, with the clouds 
and the stars. 

Many years passed away, some of them spent in 
Vandalia, the old state capital, some of them in 
Charleston. He was teacher, editor, scholar, lawyer, 
legislator, jurist. Congressman, and always the be- 
loved and admired gentleman; unselfish, kind, mod- 
est, cheerful, witty, easily a leader in any place he had 
part in ; eloquent, most just and generous. His many 
orations and speeches delivered in the stormy cam- 
paigns during the critical period before and after the 
Civil War, made him a figure in state, and indeed, in 
national politics. 

The extensive range of his studies, and his schol- 
arly acquirements are shown by his great work on 
Masonic Symbolry, now being read in many of the 
grand jurisdictions of the world. In a resolution 
passed by the Grand Lodge of Illinois, this book is 
referred to as "The most remarkable contribution, 
along the lines of w'hich it treats, yet made to Masonic 
literature." 

McKendree College conferred upon him the 
Honorary Degree of Master of Arts, in 1867, during 



Preface. 

the time the distinguished Robert Allyn was Presi- 
dent of the College. On that occasion he read his 
poem, The Song of the Wahbeek, by invitation of 
the Faculty, whose attention he had attracted by his 
wide reputation for scholarship. The poem was at 
that time condensed for delivery. It was later read 
to the Constitutional Convention of Illinois in 1870. 
Soon after this he came to Colorado, where he ampli- 
fied the work, and gave it its present form. 

The love story of Klo-lo-war and Lo-wi-el, which 
is the gem and ornament of the poem (beginning on 
page 63 and ending at page 126), illustrates the life 
of a superior race who occupied the country before 
the coming of the Indian, a people who worshiped 
the sun, and of whose existence the red race has 
lianded down traditions. 



Tke Song of tke Wakteek 



Fair fell the golden light of June, 

When ruled aloft the med'cine moon ; (^) 

Throughout whose bright, mysterious course, 

The Jebis plied their subtle force. 

At silent hours, when Gush-ne-bou, 

O'er all his dusky mantle threw ; 

To mingle draughts of marvelous power. 

With juices of each tree and flower ; 

Whereby the deadly nightshade brews 

Its poison from the marshland dews ; 

Or fragrant mint its balm distils 

Beneath the starlight on the hills : 

Whereby the Wahoo stays from harm, 

(1) "When ruled aloft, the medicine moon," etc. The idea is, that 
it was during the course of that moon. The term "medicine" is applied by 
the Indians to any object, or thing, to which they ascribe unusual or super- 
natural power or effect. In common with barbarous people, they look upon 
disease with dread, and ascribe mysterious properties to remedies. Many 
instances are given of their applying their term for "medicine" to some 
strange object, perhaps some curious invention of the whites, — and on 
being presented with some article of wonderful construction, as, for in- 
stance, a polished axe, they have worn it suspended about the person, hold- 
ing it sacred. 

Time is connected by moons, and the different moons of the year are 
distinguished by some title drawn from the season, the habits of animals, 
plants, etc., as the "Corn moon," being the moon for planting; the "Hunting 
moon," the "Snow moon," the "Medicine moon," etc., the latter so-called, 
among some tribes, on account of the extraordinary virtue supposed to be 
possessed by plants at that time. Enchantments were supposed possible 
under the influence of that moon, not possible at other times. 



10 The Soi^G of the Wahbeek. 

The fever spirit's burning charm ; 
Or hateful nettle, unawares, 
The venom of its sting prepares ; 
Or, from the calumet's sacred bowl 
Tobacco soothes the warrior's soul. 



Still held the med'cine moon its power 
At noon, and midnight's magic hour : 
Though lost the wizard's wondrous lore, 
Which traced those mighty laws of yore. 
By which the planet's mingled spell 
Upon the living spirit fell ; 
And gave the soul unearthly play. 
Through half the circle of a day. 

The josakeed, who bore alone 

The wampum none but he might own. 

Had passed with all his elder line. 

Upon the spirit march sublime ; 

By Gitchee-Mani ton's command. 

Had sought the dread hereafter land — 

He, tall E'ah-wodin, trod no more 

Upon the valley's scented floor ; 

!N'or on the hills of night and storm. 

Held vigils with some spectral form ; 

l^or by the dismal forest tomb, 

With spirits wrestled in the gloom ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 11 

To win the charms none ever knew, 
Save he, and Gitchee-Maniton. 

His sacred mound stood lone and fair, 

'No voice of Sachem echoed there ; 

Nor sound of warrior's war whoop rung, 

Nov chorus by the hunters sung — 

But silent as in ancient time. 

When hushed were Mathro's rites sublime — 

No priestly throng with solemn tread. 

Wailed ghostly requiem for the dead ; 

Or chanted to the waning night, 

The triumph of the solstice light : 

I^or harvest song with cymbals clang. 

O'er beauteous fields and vineyards rang ; 

[N'or choral strain nor murmured prayer, 

E'or love wing'd flute notes trembled there. 

The changing years had brought again, 
A stranger race to fill the plain, 
And time made haste to sweep away 
All vestige of the Red man's stay. 
His Council fires were bright no more. 
Along the fair Peoria's shore : 
No more the curious wigwam rose 
Where bright Macoupin's dells repose ; 
IsTor rose the war whoop on the gale. 



12 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

When midnight watched o'er Okaw's vale ; 
Nor sped the 'Trophet's" pictured bark (-) 
Beneath the starlight shadows dark, 
Where winding Wabash spreads to view 
His willowy isles and billows blue. 

The chief had led his shattered bands, 

To hunting grounds of farther lands : 

Beyond the bright O-is-con-sin-'s tide 

Beyond the Me-se-se-pe wide ; 

Where to the pale-face all unknown, 

His savage pride might brood alone. 

Where wrath might sink to sullen gloom, 

Beyond the white man's cannon boom ; 

Where on some other waves as fair, 

And free as once Ohio's were, 

His light pirogue should dread no more 

To meet the rushing ''pinelore'' ; (^) 

The ''fire canoe", whose hissing breath 

Had ushered earthquake, pest and death. (^) 



(2) "Nor sped the Prophet's pictured bark," etc., the "Prophet" so- 
Ued by way of distinction, was a brother of the famous Tecumseh, greatly 
med for his bravery, and more by his magic powers. He exercised an 
traordinary influence over the different tribes who fought against the 
lites in the war of 1812. 

(3) "To meet the rushing Pinelore," Pinelore, the Indian name of 
e steamboat, — literally, Fire Canoe. 

(4) "Had ushered earthquake, pest and death." The first steamboat 
er seen upon the Western waters descended the Mississippi in the year 
11. It was on its passage at the time of the great earthquake, which 
nk the country on both sides of the Mississippi, converting a considerable 
tent of territory into swamp. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 13 

Tlie pioneer his cot had reared, 
Where once the Council lodge appeared ; 
The lowly cabin's smoke upcurled, 
Where oft the Mohawk's warclub whirled, 
Or bold Moweaqua's hunters fleet, 
Outstripped the wild buck's nimble feet, 
Or roused the antlered elk to boimd 
From briary vale or hazel mound. 
The solitary field was seen, 
To check the endless wastes of green ; 
Those realms of verdure spreading through 
From Bonpas and the bright Boucoup, 
To where the countless lakelets rest 
As gems on fair Wisconsin's breast, — 
Those grassy seas, whose ^'happy isles" 
Are every blossomed grove which smiles — 
Whose shores are purple woods that lie 
In broken outline on the sky ; 
Whose waves are billowy lawns that swim, 
Continuous to the distance dim; 
Which yet, as by that seer's control. 
Who Egypt smote, forbear to roll. 



Immediately afterwards the yeUow fever extended its ravages 
through the Mississippi valley. Thousands of the Indians perished, and 
they attributed to the advent of the terrible "Fire Canoe" the two previ- 
ously unknown calamities which had come upon their country. It is said 
that the first steamboal, besides its unprecedented size and form, was fitted 
with a scape pipe coming out in front of the vessel, terminating in the form 
of a serpent's head, so that the new monster must, in the eyes of those 
simple savages, have been a veritable Water Dragon, breathing fire and 
smoke. 



14 The Song of the AVaiibeek. 

The noonday poured its burnini>' tide 
O'er belted stream and prairie wide, (^) 
O'er gTassy slope, and shelt(^i'od dale ; 
The scene of many a campfire tale 
When rushed tlie dauntless Oillinois 
To charge the contpiering Iroquois; 
Or Miami ah' s warriors dread, 
Made all Cahokia's wigwams red ; 
Or sped the fearless "voyageur" 
Along Vermilion's meadoAvs fair ; 
Or first Kentucky's bullets flew 
Against the murderous Kickapoo. 

Still was the gossamer's pendant chain, 
ITnruflled stood the yellowing grain ; 
The breeze which shook its gems of morn, 
Slept with the echoings of the horn. 
In far Kaskaskia's green arcades, 
Mid ash, and lynn, and bellvine shades; 
The shimmering haze which floats at noon, 
O'er willowy swale or still lagime, 
O'er all the north spread prairie lone. 
Its subtle mirage now had thrown ; 
AVhich ever mocks the straining eye, 
With phantom wave forms hurrying by ; 

(5) "O'er belted stream and prairie wide." Tlie streams of IHiiiois. 
as in most of tlie prairie regions of the West, were bordered, or as it was 
termed, "belted," with timber. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 15 

The ghosts of billows which of yore, 
Beat there on some long sunken shore. 

The sere, lone oak of foliage spare, 
Had ceased his whispered morning prayer ; 
The priestly elm his chant had sung. 
His sweeping drapery round him flung; 
The sycamore's organ pipes were still. 
And so the hickory's rondeau shrill ; 
Throughout the forest chancel dim, 
A^^as hushed the many-languaged hynni ; 
All save the fountain's changeless tone, 
Beside the sachem's Med'cine stone. (^) 

Then, meeting on that bowery crest, 
Four wand'rers sat them down to rest ; 
Of mien and garb diverse were they ; 
And each had come a different way ; 
Unlike in race, and speech and age ; 
Pursuits as different each engage. 
One clad in rudest vestments stood, 
xi dweller of the plain and wood ; 
One robed in black, whose solemn air, 
Told holy things were all his care — 
One whose calm features plainly bore 



c,^^** ^V "Reside the Sachem's Med'cine stone." The boulders which lif» 
worT?oi^^Z,%\lT' P^-r^^" of the West are masses of apparently wave- 
many toSs! ""'"^^^"^ ^^'t' exceedingly hard. Some are of the weight of 



16 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

The seal of philosophic lore ; 

And one whose years were spent to trace, 

The records of the human race. 



The first beneath his waving hair, 
Displayed a front serene and fair ; 
His lustrous eye, now gay, now grave, 
The hailing sign of genius gave. 
But what was his of nature's lore. 
Or w*hat of learning's mingled store. 
Or what of wisdom's cryptic hoard, 
Or Treasures History's scrolls afford. 
Or what of Art's indwelling thought. 
Of truths in myth and saga wrought, 
Of heavenly writ, of life's design, 
Might only seer or bard divine. 
He heeded much the converse free 
Which passed among the learned three ; 
Who though of different race and speech, 
Yet Learning's midnight lamp for each, 
Had shed such light through years of toil, 
That meeting on that stranger soil, 
Each hailed his fellow at first view, 
In words his earliest boyhood knew. 

He stood apart, but not as one 
Who sought such fellowship to shun ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 17 

For though to muse he seemed inclined, 

Still, courteous were his words and kind ; 

And ever much he joyed to be 

With men of wiser thought than he. 

But long seclusion wrought on him, 

As fetters on the eagle's limb ; 

Wlio loosed, forbears at first to try 

His pinions on the upper sky ; 

Till circling oft in lowlier flight. 

He feels return his inborn might, 

Then with the scream that speaks his pride, 

Bounds upward to the solar tide. 

Swift fly the hours when crowned with ease, 

A toil-worn wanderer as these. 

Sits where the gelid fountain flows, 

Beneath the odorous grape and rose. 

And heeds no more in blissful rest 

The leagues his blistered feet have pressed. 

But swifter, swifter time speeds on ; 

And hours are instants come and gone ; 

When he whose lonely path has lain 

Through voiceless glade, and torrid plain. 

Remote from kindred, friends and home ; 

Where but the hardy borderers roam ; 

A pioneer in learning's corp, 

A seeker of unwritten lore, 



18 Till'; SoNO Oh' Til 10 WaIIIM'IKK. 

Alnr fnmi luiiiilcl, col and field, 
And all which Art, or Love can yield ; 
Tims meets with those whose spirit t-one 
llnlli :iii«»-ht eoiiii^eiiinl with his own; 
W'lio seek Ihe fniils which kiKvwled^e yields, 
Ahhou^h [)erchaiice in dilTerc^nt fields; 
Or search for i>-enis of wisdom's hoard, 
Deep locked in mines he ne'er explored ; 
And |)ress the search of j^'oed and Iriic, 
Throni;h some, to him, straiii^'c avenue; 
Still (hreadino- nature's complex laws, 
l>ack, loward the grand omnillc cause. 

ITence, searetdy heeded, passed away, 
Tlie lionrs which brought the close of day; 
And slill were loth to part the fonr, 
Whose {)alhs on earth should cross no more. 

Of secrets deep, and thoughts profound ; 

Of mystcMMCs long in silence hound ; 

Of lliiugs in Iu>a\{Mi, and air and sea; 

That which hath been, or yc^t shall be ; 

Of distant lands, and lonely isles, 

Of sculptured cliil's and mouldering piles. 

Of rising slates and fallcMi throiu's, 

Of marshalled spheres and changing zones, 

Of theologic problems old. 



The Song of the Waiihkiok. 11) 

The wonders life and death nnfohl, 
Diseoursed they long, nor yet had tired, 
When evening's sun the clouds had fired, 
And stretched across the sloping lawn, 
The shadow of tlic^ tall pecan; 
And purph'd all the unMundxired groves, 
Where zephyr by the twilight roves. 
To catch the dainty spirit's words, 
Who whispers music to the birds; 
His step first heard in air's bright fields, 
Upon the glittering asp(;n's shields. 

When thus the chronicler addressed 

The dweller of the trackless AVest ; 

Say, why shovildst thou keep silence thus ? 

'Tis well that thou take part with us; 

And bring to swell our mingled store, 

What thou hast gleaned of precious lore. 

Thine ears have heard with gladness great. 

What we of other lands relate; 

TIk; tales of old barbaric war, 

The inarches of the sons of Thor; 

Traditions of that wondrous zone. 

Where Niger pours from realms unknown; 

Of Chaldic plains, and Yemen's sands, 

Of old Cathy and Tartar lands — 

The crumbling scripts we toiled to gain. 



20 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

'^eath mouldering Taj and Aztec fane. 
The worship of the sacred flame, 
And whence the Magi's wisdom came. 
The lines from runic sculptures rude, 
Or chiselled cells of Kneph and Boodh 
The wondrous things of wave and rock 
Volcano's blast and earthquake's shock 
The lauwine's crash, the tide wave's boom ; 
The rising I^ile and red Simoon. 

Then say, thou rover of the plains, 
What prize shall here reward my pains ? 
What old and curious legends dwell 
Within this land thou knowst so well ? 
Which ancient hunters oft recite. 
In cabins by the shell-bark light — 
What old traditions of his sires, 
Live with the chieftain's council fires ? 
What moss-grOAvn monumental stone ; 
What shattered pile by years o'erthrown ? 
What buried relics of a race. 
Who left for thine their dwelling place ? 

Yet hold ! exclaimed the reverend man ; 
In ansAverinc: these if still thou can, 
Omit not also to disclose, 
If aught the least there be which shows 
What lore of prophets lost elsewhere, 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 21 

Tlieir elders treasured unaware ; 

\\^at scraps of holy writ unknown, 

Tlieir sages mingled with their own. 

Or if beyond this mortal strife, 

They fixed the goal of human life ; 

What worshipped they, or how, whose trace 

Still lingers round their dwelling place ? 

For much it boots me well to scan 

The mystery of the soul of man ; 

And things of faith to light restore. 

By scribe and pandit lost of yore. 

Or, cried the sage, perhaps for me, 
Some form of ^N'ature here may be — 
Tell me what fossil treasures sleep 
In rocky chambers fast and deep ; 
What buried monster's massive bones. 
Attest the changing of the zones ? 
What curious shells imbedded, keep 
The coast line of the ancient deep ? 
What toppling crag, or dim ravine. 
Where Nature's footprints may be seen ; 
Whereby to trace her devious course, 
Ere yet the north lakes left their source. 

Thus each for different cause, was fain, 
Some converse with the youth to gain ; 
If haply might his words make known. 



22 The Song of the Waiibeek. 

Some mystery of the Med'cine stone. 
I>ut he, intent on riper lore, 
From tale or legend yet f orebore ; 
For much he feared the close of day, 
Should call the pilgrim corps away; 
Who, whence they came or whither bound, 
Why come to that secluded groimd, 
He nothing more than this did know, 
They strangely as they came might go ; 
And leave him in that lonely land. 
To greet no more such Avelcome band ; 

And thus his comrades to engage 
In further speech, and most the sage ; 
He then began in simple tone. 
Reclining on the Sachem^s stone. 

His three companions all serene. 
Sat near on mossy cushions green. 
Between the opening spicewood leaves. 
The setting sun shot golden sheaves ; 
Which on the rock^s worn sculptures smote 
And all its legend plainer wrote — 
Reformed of jagged seam and scar. 
The semblance of the blazing star ; 
And wrought of wrinkled lichens brown, 
Above the cross a golden crown. 



The Song of the Waiibeek. 23 

The frisking squirrel stooped to hear, 
The hirpling rabbit peeped in fear ; 
The chattering marten flitted close, 
The raven sat aloft, morose. 
The whistling quail its triple note 
Repeated from the vale remote; 
The speckled fawn, with amber eye. 
Stepped softly from the thicket nigh. 

The breeze threw out beside them there, 
The pennons of the maidenhair — 
The feathery sumach's yellow plume, 
The snow-grape's more delicious bloom, 
Around them rose ; and high o'er all 
The hackberry's fluted pillars tall. 
Bore up above the crimson bine, 
The bugles of the trumpet vine ; 
While buttressed elm, and bur-oak grand. 
Stretched upward all their clasping hands 
To form in gothic arches rude,* - - 
The temple of that solitude ; 
Whose sacred font, and altar were 
The spring and pictured boulder there ; 
Wliile pious Evening gently came, — 
As when it bore the ancient flame, — 
With incense from the honeyed cells 
Of blue, and pearl, and scarlet bells ; 



24 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

And o'er its lichen fringes poured 
Lustrations from her sacred hoard ; 
Till E'ight along the dusky meads 
Began to count her holy beads 
And rosaries on the garlands flung, 
Which round the bannered hickories clung. 

Poet. 
High on the slopes of the north facing uplands, C'^) 
Looking across the bright valleys of maples, 
Low, where the rivulets 

Bathe the wild hawthorns which welcome the humming birds — 
On, where the waves on the brink of Ontario 
Chant to the planets which dance on their crests — 
Lonely and still in their rest — 
Scattered as leaves 

O'er the broad plains of the war-loving Iroquois — 
Far as the isles of the beautiful river — 
Lonely and still in their rest — 
Far as the rock of the mystical Pi-a-sa — (^) 
Far as the willows which worship the morning, 

(7) It is to be observed that they are found on the north-facing 
slopes, lying on the top of the soil or slightly imbedded; whence they came, 
is a mystery about which there is very little agreement of opinion. That 
they are entirely foreign to the soil on which they are found, is admitted 
by all parties, 

(8) "Far as the rock of the mystical Piasa." The Piasa, pronounced 
Piasaw, is a large rock in Madison County, Illinois, on which there is a 
representation of a bird of vast size. This representation is a rough draw- 
ing, in a red-colored paint, and is of unknown antiquity. The Indians re- 
garded the picture with dread. 

The legend of the Piasa Rock is one not generally known. Accord- 
ing to it the Piasa was a huge bird, which came by order of the evil Man- 
itou. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 25 

Jewelled with spraj of the wild Muscoquetas, 
Lie the strange forms the mysterious Boulders ; 
Lonely and still, in their places of rest. 
As sits the lone exile afar from his birthplace, 
High on the hillside that looks to his fatherland. 
Gazing still on while the dream lights of memory 
Mingle their tints with the hues of the eventide 
Far, through the home stretching vista of hills ; 
So sits the Boulder apart in his solitude, 
Claiming no kindred with rocks of the quarry, 
Stranger, and lone, 'mid the forms of the landscape ; 
High on the north facing slopes of the uplands. 
Looking across the bright valleys of maples ; 
Far through the north stretching vista of hills. 
Chronicler, 

Long are the years of the numberless ages. 
Ages outreaching all human perception, 
Since the ^'lost rock" to its resting was borne. 

Philosopher, 
Who shall declare it ? 

Who shall reveal the strange tale of the boulder ? 
That to which ear of none living hath hearkened ; 
That which no sculpture, 
Dim hieroglyphic, or rock-stained memorial, 
Brings from the glimmering twilight of history — 
That which no wizard hath called from the darkness ; 
That which the vision of science hath foiled. 



26 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Theologist. 
Ere the dark waters were gathered together, 
Came they not forth at the call of Oninipotence, 
Each with its form and its resting place given ? 
There to remain as mementos eternal ; 
Pointing the wayfarer's thoughts through the centuries ; 
Back from this life world's magnificent garniture- 
Back to the night of the formless and void ? 

Philosopher. 
Came they not borne on the terrible iceberg, 
Riven from crags which encircled the pole ? 
Urged o'er the deep by the might of the whirlwind, 
The whirlwind that wrestled of old with the darkness, 
And severed the bands of the earth-girdling cloud, 
Making way for the javelins of light ? 

Theologist. 
What ocean, the ancient of floods 

Was that whose black billows bore up the huge fragments. 
Enchained to their oar by the pinion of frost ? 
Which still in their loneliness. 

Dumb, as the voice of the billows which bore them, 
Tell of the ages of God ? 
From Avhat gorges in quarries unknowni. 
Unmeasured by aught save the eye of Jehovah ; 
And wrought by the earthquake of terrible mi.ffht, — 
The arm of the earthquake, the lever of fire. 
Was the boulder in violence torn ? 



The Song of the AVaiibeek. 27 

Poet. 
Were tliey brought forth by some marvelous alchemy, 
Moulded by spirits who garnish the spheres; 
Wrought to these forms and bestowed as earth's ornaments, 
Meet to be worn at her bridal with morning, 
As the bright shells and the clusters of coral, 
Circling the neck of some maid of the islands — 
As the queer beads of the forest-born princess, 
Wrought in her cincture with signs of the Manitou 
When she comes forth to the feast of the elk ? 

Philosopher. 
Why should such fragments as these be her jewels; 
Earth, who has treasures of onyx and adamant, 
Hidden far down from the sight of all living, 
Sealed in her granite-barred vaults from of old ? 
Earth whom the singers, thy fellows have fabled 
Sister of ocean, whose ample dominion 
Spread through the fields of the fathomless azure. 
Mocks the small empire which spans but a continent ; 
Mocks the scant jewels its treasuries hold. 

Poet. 
Whence have they come, did the children of giants, 
Those of the legends oft told by the sagamores, 
Cast them from heights of the Western Sierras — 
Cast them in sport at the chase of the mastodon, 
When his dread footstep was heard on the uplands. 
Shaking the crests of the heaven-reaching palms ? 



28 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Were they the weapons once hurled in their combats, 
When they rushed forth to some warfare whose terrors 
Shook the high hills, and all forests and mountains ; 
Chased the black hail gods afar to their caverns ; 
Smote the full moon at her rising, with paleness, 
Bade the fierce whirlwind stand breathless in fear ? 

Chronicler. 
Who were such heroes, and where are their monuments ? 
Where their proud pillars- -rtheir sepulchres awful ? 
Those had they been, would liave piled the huge temple, 
Castle or fortress, or pyramid massy; 
Towering aloft o'er the wrecks of man's fabrics — 
Would not their tombs on the mountains look down? 
Earth rears no beings except for the chamal house — 
AVhich of her races have spent not their forces 
In rearing some structure to speak for their ashes 
Outlasting their palaces, temples and thrones ? 
Those have been bom of the dreams which the sachem, 
Sitting alone on the moon-lighted headland. 
Weaves of traditions which came of his fathers ; 
Came with the earth mounds which cover their bones. 

Poet 
Weave them he may, though he heard not the stories 
Wrought by the poets who sang of Olympus — 
Weave them he may, for the spirit which hastens. 
Bearing the flame from the beacon celestial. 
Soul of the forms which the poet shall fashion ; 



The Son"g of the Wahbeek. 29 

Passed not alone through the lands of old story, 

Halting at oceans which girdled their empires — 

Halting at periods fixed in man's cycles — 

Bards of all ages have wrought in creations, 

Peopling all regions with beings of wonder ; 

Forms of all strangeness have dwelt in their fatherlands, 

Figures gigantic have stalked o'er their birthplaces ; 

Seen as far objects which loom through dim vapors — 

Seen from afar, as in space, so in time — 

Thoughts which are bom in the dream-world of poets; 

Those at whose utterance the spirit bows down ; 

Sweep with like grandeur through realms of the vision land, 

Seen by the fur-belted bard of the wilderness — 

Seen by the wearer of mitre or crown. 

Philosopher. 
What is the sum of thy fancy's creations ? 
Secrets of nature of which thou art speaking. 
Lie not as gems by the nectar-fed streams — 
Hang not as fruits by the sapphire-laid avenues, 
Poets may tread in the garden of dreams. 
Say, if thou boldest the key to such knowledge, 
Where is the door to its innermost chamber ? 
There let us enter and read the conclusion; 
Else will I seek for some wiser than thou — 
He shall go in to that sacred adytum — 
He shall discover this curious arcanum — 
Only the voice of philosophy teaches 



30 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

What are the houlders, whence came they, and how. 

Poet. 
What ! The Philosopher ? Hast thou not heard him ' 
Asking the heights and the depths of their secrets ? 
Asking each handmaid of nature in passing — 
Those which attend in her chambers of mystery — 
Forces which wait on the birth of the orbs — 
Those which are loosed in the cloud-bolt and typhoon — 
Chained in loose dust of the alchemist's compound ; 
Trained in the oak to awake with the seasons — 
Harnessed to wait on the flow of the tide wave — 
Solvents which melt do^m the cliffs of old granite, 
Wrap the tall forests in vestments of flame ; 
Torture each substance through forms of all being ; 
Clay to bright foliage, and life blood to adamant ; 
Sapphire to float 'neath the eyelid of beauty ; 
Sea shells to garnish the grass of the plain. 

Forth on his errand he hies to the mountains; 

Scales the tall crags of the Andes and Ural — 

Climbs to the summit of Alp and Him-ma-la ; 

Heights that look down on the cloud fields of continents ; 

Scorning to stoop to the voice of the thunder — 

Forth on the ocean, 

Hastes he to realms of the arctic aurora ; 

Hastes to the islands which burn 'twixt the tropics — 

Threads the wild depths of the Obi and Amazon — 



The Sonct of the Wahbeek. 31 

Pierces the gorges, the footprints of earthquakes, 
DowTi througli dark clefts to the matrix of metals — 
Treads the hot brink of the burning volcano; 
Birth place of terrors, and storehouse of death — 
Scans with his instruments, realms of the infinite ; 
Brings the dim nebulae down to his vision ; 
Stretolies his lines through the orbits of systems, 
Far as the bands of Arcturus and Sirius ; 
Far as the circle of Mazaroth runs — 
Weighs the huge planets and measures the cycles — 
Marshals the numberless hosts of the galaxy; 
Till the bright baldric is blazing witli suns. 

^ow he returns from, such chase of the rainbow; 
Dim are his eyes with the dust of his folios : 
Worn is his form with the toil of a lifetime; 
Scathed by the touch of the forces he questioned ; 
Gray are his thin locks and wrinkled his brow — 
What is the sum of his world-gathered wisdom ? 
Only a scroll whereof this is the syllabus, 
WTiat are the boulders ; whence came they and how ? 

Theologist, 
A^one hath revealed what the pen of Omnipotence 
Traced not of old by the hands of his ministers; 
Those who came nigh to his presence of old ; 
Those have but told how the evenings and mornings, 
Came at his bidding with marvelous progression ; 



32 Tjie Song of the Wahbeek. 

Came with the forming of ocean and firmament ; 

Mainland and island — ^liosts of all races — 

Bringing in order the things we behold. 

Touching the things whereof now we are speaking; 

He who brought forward the streams in their courses, 

Plants and all living; made also in wisdom, 

Stones of the field; as thou seest in multitudes , 

Wherefore or how, it were vain to imagine — 

Made them perchance when the thorn and the braud^le 

Cursed the fair earth for the sins of its dwellers — 

Made them perchance ere the sunlight was kindled — 

Yet to the soul of the humble and prudent 

Well may their being some lesson unfold ; 

Even as good is connected with evil ; 

Linking the present with chaos of old. 

Poet 
Why do they stand in the light of the centuries. 
Under the bright ray of lily-shod morn ? 
Why do they stand ever silent and answer not, 
Wlien the wierd voice of the night wind is low, 
Weaving its plaint to the desolate oak 'I 

And tlie boulder unanswering, gleams in the moonlight ; 

The quivering moonlight which silvers the cloud — 

The tall grass low rustling — 

The Sunflower bending its disk to the east — 

The pearl-vested spikenard that weeps for the dawn ; 



TjlIO S<)N(; Ol'' TIIK WAIIinOKK. 33 

All mournfully answer, wo an; l)iil, of ycvstcrday; 

Nau^lit of the iriystery inay we unfold — 

Tlie night wind wails on o'er the dusky savannah, 

The moon dips her crescent, 

Far over the dun formless cloud of the night ; 

The golden-winged planets move on in their circles; 

The slars stand afar on the galaxy dim; 

And rev(;al not the secret of old. 

Philosopher. 
Who shall pursue the unsearchable mystery ? 
Earth has no records which man may unroll ; 
Who shall go down to the depths of tho oceans, 
Down to the rock ribs whicJi anchor the headlands^ 
Who shall descend through the depths of the continents, 
Down to the granite-laid base of tho Andes; 
Down to th(^ king-bolt of gravity's chain? 
Searching tlie rolls of unregistered '^periods" — 
(iroping with doubt at the jyorts of Ihe ages; 
Th(n*c 1o unfold to the children of knowledge. 
That which lies hid in the multiplied folios. 
Wrapped with th(i cerements of se[)ul('hered systems; 
S(;aled with tho signet of secrecy old. 

Who shall decipher the wondrous palimpsests, {^) 
Written and rased by the stylus of nature — 

(9) "Who shaH doolphor tho wond'rou.s palympso.sts?" The Pal- 
anpSf'.stH woro i)ar('hrnenLs, containiriM' .'incitmt. writln>?H, wliich tho niorikH 
>f tho Mhhlhfi AjiTos oi-aKcd If) mako way f*)r thoir own pro<]uotioriH. TFniH 
naiiy of (ho noblost oflusioiiK oC the poots of antkpilty wetc oi-anod (o k\vo. 



34 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Writ .on the marble, the flint and the amethyst — 
Written on tablets of schist and of porphyry — 
Written with figures of crystal and foliage — 
Written and rased, and still written again — 
Writ by the earthquake, the flood and volcano ; 
Rased by the earthquake, the flood and the flame ? 

Poet. 
Who shall ascend on the wings of the meteor ; 
High as the sphere where the thunder voice rolls ? 
Who shall go up on the comet's swift pinion, 
High as the pathway of Saturn's red chariot — • 
High as the arch of the noon-day's pavilion — 
High as the zodiac's limitless zone? 
There to unravel the marvelous history. 
When the bright Pleiades 
Sing to the sons of Orion and Ursa, 
Songs of the ages which ushered the sun ? 

Chronicler. 
What is the span which the world calls antiquity ? 
Search through the pages which tell of the ages. 
Scriptures most ancient — 

Parchments of Syria, and rolls of the catacombs, 
Scrawled with the ciphers of races unknown — 
Fragments of Vedas and words of Confucius, 

place to the puerile leg-ends which illiterate monks thought of greater value 
than aught which could emanate from a heathen mind. Some of these 
parchments were rewritten in this way the second and third time, stUl 
leaving some traces of the former writing. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 35 

Hymns of the poets of Chebar and Sinai, 
Talmud and Iliad, Shaster and Zend. 
Search for the legends of heroes the ancient — 
Songs of the bards who were born with the races — 
Skalds of the J^orthland and poets of Sheba — 
Tales of the hunters of Haemus and Shinar ; 
Stories of Fo Hi and Enoch of old. 

Go to the land of Euphrates or Indus ; 

Muse where the hoary -browed sphynx and the obelisk 

Beckon the winds of the desert to come — 

Winds whose hot fingers still cease not in girding 

'Round Kamac and Ammon their sand-woven shrouds. 

Far as the fountains which nourish the banyan, 

On, by the brink of the garden-born Hiddekel, 

On where the altars of Odin arose — 

Far as Copan, with her forest-grown sculptures ; 

Piles of strange workmanship — 

Fragments Cyclopean and circles Druidical, 

Emblems unriddled by mortals, repose. 

These are the things which the chronicler searches 

One with these wrecks is his book of beginnings — 

Out of this rubbish his page of confusions 

Gleans but this story that little he knows. 

Poet, 
These are the things whereof poets have chanted ; 
Monuments these of the ages of man — 



36 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

These saith the boulder ; 

These like the moss-tuft which came hut of yesterday, 

Know not at all of the cycles of ages — 

Ages I chronicled, 

Lone in my resting place ere they began. 

These may look back on humanity's centuries, 

Tracing by lustres their calendered years — 

I on my birthnight look down through the chilliads, 

Chilliads of ages, 

Dwindling to points in the hazy antiquity, 

Lost in the arc of eternity's sphere. 

He paused and by the fountain's brink. 
Knelt 'mid the purple phlox to drink. 
The sage philosopher sat bound 
In meshes of some thought profound ; 
The chronicler his open scroll 
Had cast beside the prelate's stole ; 
Each voice was hushed, and all was still 
Upon the summit of the hill. 

The day had closed the term of toil, 
Yet left its blessing on the soil — 
The daily wages man receives. 
In swelling fruits and bursting sheaves. 
IN'ight, mother of all worlds, who bears 
The incense meet for holy prayers ; 
Whose viewless hands her veil benign 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 37 

Outspreads as nature's pardon sign; 
Till life is lulled, and sleep redeems 
The waste of thought with blessed dreams ; 
For all Earth's wearied hosts had dressed 
The tabernacle of their rest. 

High in the east the effulgent moon 
Rode on the azure heaven of June — 
Through boundless space the ether glowed, 
And all the lucent air overflowed ; 
As though some spirit fire did play, 
Immingied with the lunar ray. 
The stars abashed withdrew their light, 
The plain did glitter on the sight — 
The forest's devious outline gray. 
Stretched dim, and dimmer, far away; 
And distant groves and lonely trees. 
Seemed shadows cast on dreaming seas. 

About the mound the luster fell ; 
And through the grove's deep vaults as well — 
Impoured 'twixt opening elm and oak ; 
As though a hallowed radiance broke, 
Through windows of some ancient fane ; 
^^ere Time had shattered arch and pane. 

Still sat the four in silence bound. 
As dwellers on enchanted ground ; 



38 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Nor marked the change as more and more, 

A dimness gathered 'round and o'er ; 

Till all their leafy court was laid 

In blackness of a cryptic shade ; 

For dire eclipse had quenched in gloom 

The splendor of the Orient moon ; 

And earth without, and heaven o'erhead; 

In dim and awful glory spread. 

Th' eternal stars walked round the pole, 

High spread the galaxy's awful scroll ; 

The planets in their endless march. 

Went onward down the Southern arch ; 

Where far, a cliff-like cloud upraised, 

With vivid fires inconstant blazed ; 

Responsive to the signals bright. 

From streamers of the I^orthern Light; 

And o'er the moon's relinquished throne 

The comet's lurid pennon shone — 

With instant flash the meteor bright. 

Shot thwart the heaven its line of light. 

From dizzy heights above the plain, 
Loud rang the harsh notes of the crane ; 
With answering sound the hideous owl. 
Provoked the wolf's long dismal howl; 
And from the distant cloud the sound 
Of muffled thunder jarred the ground. 



The Soi^^g of the Wahbeek. 39 

Up looked the four for 'round the stone, 

A weird and wondrous brightness shone ; 

Not like the meteor's sudden blaze, 

N^or moon, nor planet's quiet rays — 

'Not like the light of sim or lamp ; 

Or gleam which lights the hunter's camp; 

A flowing, rich-hued, vapory shroud, 

It fell about them as a cloud ; 

As glorious as the mists that swim 

Where sunbeams strike the cataract's rim ; 

As dream-like as the sunset haze 

In spring time on those holy days. 

When Embarras' flowering maple trees (^^) 

Cast golden fleeces on the breeze. 

And on the pictured rock was seen 
A form unknown of wondrous mien — 
He seemed not old and yet he bore 
A look which told of days of yore — 
N'ot young, and still a spell of youth, 
Was on his lineaments uncouth — 
Unlike to man, or beast, or fowl, 
Nor more like peri, deeve or ghoul, 
Or other form which poets say 
Is worn by satyr, imp or fay. 

(10) "When Embarras' flowering maple trees cast golden fleeces on 
the breeze." The Embarras River (pronounced Ambraw), a stream near 
Charleston, Illinois. 



40 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

And 'round him fell so great an awe, 
The gazers wist not what they saw ; 
Though every eye which on him fell 
Saw somewhat that it knew full well. 

The prelate grasped his saintly crook, 
The chronicler let fall his book ; 
The sage forth leaned for nearer gaze; 
The poet kneeled in sore amaze ; 
And silence, as the rest of death. 
Suspended every voice and breath ; 
And strained was eye and ear of each. 
Some word or signal to beseech, 
While each at heart a scruple bore. 
Whether to question or adore. 

'No sound the awful stillness broke, 
'Till first the stranger being spoke ; 
In voice of harsh, but tuneful sound. 
Like flints beneath the cartwheel ground ; 
Or like when earthquake's instant shock. 
Smites quarries of the vitreous rock ; 
And all their caverned ledges thrill 
With chords no tone of art can fill. 

Spirit of the WahheeJc. 
Whence have ye come ? What seek ye here 
And why your wonder or your fear ? 



The Song of the Waiibeek. 41 

Hath not the rock a spirit still, 
Though resting on this paltry hill, 
As when it crowned the awful steeps 
Which clove the heavens o'er arctic deeps ? 
Was he who every form designed, 
More rich in matter than in mind ; 
That he should lack that thing to give 
To all his works, whereby to live ? 
Doth science such conclusion draw ? 
Is death the all pervading law, 
And life the rare exception found 
Through nature's universal bound ? 

If life ye have not spent in vain, 
Long since ye must have found the chain 
Which links as well th' angelic mind 
To man, the gifted and the blind, 
As him to every form whate'er. 
Throughout the universal sphere. 
Why, even ye admit there dwells 
Within the ocean's senseless shells. 
Some spark of soul, whate'er it be ; 
And wherefore not the same in me ? 

Poet. 
O spirit, be it well or ill, 
To meet thee on this lonely hill ; 
Auspicious still must be the hour. 



42 The Soi^g of the Wahbeek. 

Which brings to me thy hidden power ; 
For what thou say'st is that which dwells 
Within my spirit's deepest cells ; 
Unproved by sense or reason's art, 
But by the prophecy of the heart. 
The bending grass and waving tree, 
Have whispered of this truth to me — 
The clambering vine, the mountain peak, 
The dew drop and the planet speak 
The same which morning's glory tells ; 
That life in all creation dwells. 

Philosopher. 
That we have heard and still behold, 
Have certain sages taught of old ; 
That nature's universal plan. 
Gives souls to all, as well as man ; 
For what is nature but the soul. 
Which forms and actuates the whole; 
In order fixed by constant laws ; 
Whence endless variance hath its cause — 
And order from design must spring; 
And that from life, thus everything 
Must be with that from which it came. 
In essence, not in fonu the same. 
For how can we effects suppose, 
N"ot in the cause from which they rose ? 
Hence mind and soul whatever they be. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 43 

Witliin the primal cause we see. 

Theologist, 
In speaking thus 'tis well to mind 
That order in itself is blind ; 
And nature, not itself a cause, 
Is but the order in the laws — 
Which as thou say'st are from design — 
And that which orders is divine ; 
Which hence Divinity we call ; 
Th' onmific cause, the God of all. 

Chronicler. 
O spirit, not of problems old. 
Which sage or theologue may hold, 
W^ould I converse ; but if thou art 
The spirit of this flinty part ; 
Long hast thou dwelt within this land ; 
Whereof no olden records stand — 
Thine eyes have seen in centuries old, 
The things no monument hath told ; 
Thine ears have heard the words of those 
Who perished ere these forests rose — 
Then tell what sage of ancient race 
Once stood in this secluded place ; 
Who drew these pictured forms of old. 
Beneath this Boulder's moss and mould ? 
What means this circle dimly traced. 
These runelike forms about it placed ? 



44 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

What story do these lines declare ? 
Whose signet is the tail cross there ? 
Are they some fragments of the store 
Of history's iinremembered lore ? 
Or by some hieroglyphic art 
Designed a mystery to impart ? 
Some secret of the omnific force 
Which gave the elements their course ? 
Some signs of potent spell to bind 
The evil power which hurts mankind ? 

Tell me who drew these figiires dim ; 
And what they signified to him 
For such as these, unriddled still, 
On desert plain or lonely hill. 
The wand'rer sees in ancient lands ; 
The work of long forgotten hands — 
Tn wild Idnmea's w^adys drear ; 
Beside the Northland's fountains clear ; 
In murky crypts with mould o'ergrown ; 
Along the Nile or Tigris lone ; 
Which none who see may well divine, 
And fain would I the skill were mine. 

And if thou teach me these, once more, 
I'll seek each trackless desert shore ; 
And fill my scroll with precious things; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 45 

And from tlie dust such treasures bring, 
That on the wastes of knowledge drear, 
Shall landmarks of the past appear. 

Spirit of the WahheeJc. 
Long have 1 dwelt in this land of the meadows ; 
Ages have passed since I sat in the sunlight — 
Deeds have I witnessed no scripture hath mentioned ; 
Words have I heard of the tongues which are silent, 
Tales which the voice of tradition hath lost. 

Here where the locust, the maple, the elm tree, 
Spread their broad shadows, with oaks of the centuries 
O'er the bright fountain and lilj-set floor ; 
Long ere the moons of the white man were numbered, 
Came the great jossakeed; 
He of the land of the northern great waters — 
Called by the sachems the master of secrets, 
Wondrous ISTah-wo-din ; whose wampum was sacred — 
Learned in all lore of the winds and the seasons. 
Courses of stars and the power of all medicines ; 
Those which are locked in the crystals and metals — 
Those which are wrought in the veins of all wood plants- 
Those which inhabit the flowers of all colors — 
Here on the mound which looks over the prairie ; 
Seen from afar with its trees of great stature ; 
Crown of the wilderness, jewelled with blossoms — 
Stood he alone in tlio davs of the huntins; moon. 



46 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Watching the sun going down through the vapors ; 
Scattering his javelins of flame and vermilion, 
Through the dun smoke clouds which curtain the mountains, 
Far o'er the plains of the Cheyenne and Sioux. 

Here stood Nah-wo-din and gazed upon Gheezis — 
Gazed on the sun, as the billows of fire 
Rolled on his disk; red as glow of hot copper, 
Gazed at the splendors which flowed from his cro"\vn. 

"Hear me," he cried, ''O Thou Gheezis, the mighty — 

Eye of the Manitou, — lord of the heavens; 

Kow thou art near the dark land of Gu^h-ne-mou — 

Halting before the dim lodge of thy brother, 

Pisrke the night, with his blanket of gloom — 

Dimmed are thy plumes with the dusk of his canopy — 

Now thou art near to Nah-wo-din wlio calls thee — 

Where is the brightness which leaped from thy war spears, 

When thou wert high in the chase of thy triumph ? 

All thy bright javelins are melting in color.s — 

Colors to blazon the tent of the west wind — 

Colors to pour on the robes of the forest — 

Crimson for maple and sumach and sassafras, 

Eed for the oak and the ivy and gum tree; 

Yellow to clothe the great poplar and hickory ; 

Purple for clusters which bend the full grape-vine; 

Haws of the vallev, and arrow bush slender; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 4: 

Scarlet to garnish the beads of the Wahoo ; 
Gold for the grains of the ripening mondamin — 
All at her coming to welcome the hunting moon; 
Season of love, song and dance of the brave. 

Hear me, O Kish-thoi, and lend me thy secret, 
Teach me the art of the Medas of old — 
Masters of serpents and skilled in all cunning — 
Give me the v^isdom of Gush-Xou the Meda, 
He who went forth with the Aztecs we conquered 
When our great warriors 

Came from the springs of the mighty Saskatchawan. 
Give me the secrets he bore with his wampum, 
Forth with the sons of the great Montezuma — 
Teach me the secret of waking the spirits 
Dwelling in mountain, and forest, and river — 
Dwelling in rocks, in the flint-hearted Wahbeek, 
Show me what knowledge is hid in the figures 
Gush-^ou hath traced on the rock of the Medas — 
E^ow to my spirit their meaning unfold ; 
Thus shall ^ah-wo-din outrival the Sagamores; 
Thus shall he learn the great thoughts of the Manitou ; 
Thus shall he be as the Medas of old/^ 

But Gheezis, the sun, flaming redder and redder, 
Poured all his colors abroad on the heavens ; 
Like the great pike of the north lake in dying — 



48 Tjie Song of the Wahbeek. 

Answered no Avord to the prayer of Nali-wo-diii — 
Drew 'round his head the dark blanket of Piske — 
Sank to his sleep in tlie Ou-ii>-qnah of Nif;'ht. 

Only the West Wind the friend of the jossakeeds, 
Caine and said softly, Be patient, Nah-wo-din; 
Ask the puckwejis who gather the colors ; 
They who were known nnto Gushnoo the Meda ; 
They of a secret at midnight will tell. 

Waited tlie jossakeed tlien by the fountain; 
Wliile the puckwejis were gathering the colors; 
Gathering the colors and painting the forests — 
Painting the leaves and the nuts and the berries, 
Crimson and scarlet and yellow and purple — 
Waited ^N'ah-wo-din 'till high o'er the tree tops 
Sailed tlie bright hunting moon, (pieen of her sisters; 
Queen of the night, in her chemaun of silver — 
Sleep had come down on the hunters and maidens, 
Still were the wigwams and silent the forest ; 
Only the 's^oioe of the whip-poor-will heard he. 
Only the hooting of I^istac the owl. 

Silent he stood by the fountain at midnight. 
Where the puckwejis the friends of the medas, 
Talked of the worship of Mathro the mighty — 
Talked of the days wdien the great Montezuma 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 49 

Ruled all the nations as far as the Iceland — 
Told of the temples they built for his worship, 
When they had made him the lord of the heavens ; 
Second to Yah IIo, supreme of all spirits — 
Told of the mighty astrologer Gushnoo ; 
He who inscribed on the wahbeek the symbols, 
Known but to him through the lore of the prophets — 
Told of the things they had seen of the ancients — 
How there were giants whose stature was awful ; 
Greater than three of the race of IN'ah-wo-din — 
Those who lie under the mounds of Ca-lio-kia — 
Sak-i-mas mighty, whose armies were countless — 
Princes who builded great forts by tlie rivers — 
Priests who wrought wonders by fearful enchantments, 
Those who were prophets of Mathro and Yah Ho — 
Told of the deeds of the kings of the east land — 
How the whole land was divided in kingdoms — 
Told of the wars of the priests and magicians. 
Servants of Ehim and the dark Watchi Manitou — 
Told of the sayings of Pan-van the seer. 

Further they told of the sad Woh-no-naissa, 
She whom the singers most ancient named Hueep-o-huiel 
Maid of the forest who loved false Kee-she-lah, 
Soft-voiced and gentle, who dwelt with Lo-qui-qui — 
Told how the maiden went out by the valleys, 
Waiting his coming among the green meadows, 



50 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Waiting and watching, till dews of the midnight 
Spangled the threadlet-wrought clouds of the smokevine ; 
Spangled the flowercups she wove in her ringlets — 
Watching, nor heeding the merry Ken-te-kah, 
Danced 'neath the lindens by stripling and maiden — 
Told how she wandered, and called to Kii-she-lah, 
Hueep-o-hiiiel, come my love, Hueep-o-huiel, come — 
How the false echo deceitfully answered, 
Hueep-o-huiel, come my love ; bidding her forward, 
Till she had passed from the land of her kindred — 
Passed to the depths of the wolf -haunted wilderness ; 
Passed with the withered flowers wrought in her tresses ; 
Weary and fainting and sank by the hillside ; 
Where the great Mathro in pity beheld her ; 
Gave her the wings of a bird of the forest ; 
Gave her a plumage of sorrowful colors — 

Told how she comes to each land in her seeking ; 
Comes with the spring, when Lo-qui-qui the evening. 
Leads the young moon to the tent of Gush-ne-mou — 
Evermore uttering her cry, while the dewdrops 
Spangle the cloudlets of film on the smoke vine. 
Flitting unseen through the shades of the forest ; 
Sitting alone by the hillside, and crying 
Words in that language forgotten, unuttered, 
Save in the wailing of sad Woh-no-naissa ; 
Hueep-o-huiel, come my love, Hueep-o-huiel come. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 51 

Told how great Mathro then punished the echo ; 
Punished the echo's deception and jealousy, 
So she must tarry unseen in the solitude, 
So she must answer each sound which is uttered, — 
Told they how Mathro had punished Kee-she-lah, 
Made him the night wind which wanders in darkness ; 
Making his plumage all heavy with vapors, 
Heavy with poisons and fogs of the marshes — 
Poisons he bears to the breath of the sleeping ; 
Making his eyes ever dim with his weeping, 
Dim with the tears he sheds nightly forever. 
Tears for the maiden who wandered forlorn. 



Then the puckwejis spoke further of Nistac; 
Nistac the owl, who sits solemn and lonely, 
Sits in his lodge in the trunk of the sycamore, 
Far in the gloom of the forest at midnight ; 
Cursing the jebis which wander in darkness. 
Xistac who dwelt in the land of the east wind. 
Thought himself wiser than all of the Medas ; 
Went in the forest to mock at the jebis; 
Told how the jebis came 'round him in anger — 
Made him a bird by the arts of their magic ; 
Gave him great eyes to behold in the darkness, 
Gave him great plumes for his ears, of gray feathers. 
Put him in fear of all things of the sunlight ; 
Wherefore he sits in his lodge in the sycamore. 



Sullen jmd si ill lJir()iii;li I lie lionrn of llic siinlij;hl, ; 
Wlioroforc lie coiiich in llu> t^loom of I lie nli^'lil hours, 
Ullcriui;" liis liidcous nljinii in (lie (hirkucss ; 
iVnswi'riiii!,- (lie j(>l)is wlio in<K*k ill liis |)i'('S('nc(% 
(^iPHiui;* lli(^ jcbirt \\v licnrK in Ihc iiir. 

'rii('S(HliiML*:s :iii<l MKUM^ (lid N:ili wodiii llic jossakccd 

Ilcnr froin ruckwcjis by iiumhim of Ids ina«;i(* — 

AIho lii(> ()ld(^sl and wisc-sl. cnnic, siiyin^-, 

llil.hcM* Nnli-\v<) dill rcluni :il llic iioonlido; 

(^>^IH' :il llic full of lli(^ iiu'diciiic iikmhi ; 

'I'luMi hIijiII lliou Icjirii (d' llic s(hm'('I tlioii scMrclioflt ; 

Tlius, did i;iM»jil (Jiislnioo \]\o wisosl of Mcdns; 

ll(> who woiil oiil lo Ihc huul (d' Iho n/lccs 

Wlioii nil lh(> sons (d' I lie i^TCMit Monlcv.uiiin, 

\\'(Mil lo llio hind of Iho soulh wind n\v:i_v. 

Thon when iho iiKMrciiic iiiooii slood :il llu^ lullost, 
(^iinio li('!-o Nnhwodin ;il iiooni iiiic nnd wniliMl - 
Sal, by l-lio \V:dib(M'k and ihoui^hl of (MiclianlnuMiLs — 
Sal. by lh(^ rock, and llio lilllo ruckwojis, 
(lalhorod Iho sublh^sl jiiico of iho inilk\V(MMl ; 
(ilalhcnMl lh(^ odors of slo('|) boarini;- blossoms; 
SIkmI IIkmii abonl. him and ov(m-, an<l liillod him — 
Sani;- I heir (\vah, (\vali, lullaby sol'lly ; 
Wove o'er his (n'olids soft curlains of shadowft — 
Shadows of all lliini';s which dwell in I he slci^pland- 



TiiM S<)N<; oi' I III'; W'a iiinii'.K. 53 

SluiMlK'r('<l NMliwo-diii, niid over liis spifil 
S(^itl('(l iJic i'linrin iJiiil, wns vv(»V('ii l)_y (iiihIimoo; 
Myslic:il clijirm of I.Ik^ iiu^diciiK! iiiooii. 

riicii (lid Niili wodiii (•<)nv<^i's<' vvilli iJic spii-ils; 
Spirils <d' nil (liiM<;M wliicli dwell in llic foi-csl-, 
PrjiiriciK and mjii'slicH jiiid <l('(t(liH of (lie v.'illcy.s; 
Spiril-s of rocks and (d' rivers jiiid roiiiiljiiiiH- — 
TlioHo wliicli jippoar riol, (ixcc^pl. I<> llie Me(laH — 
Those- wliieli l,li(^ iriji^ie, of ( j iisliiioo li:id Ixtiind. 
Nino l,iin((S lio eanic al; (lie full of (lie iiied'eiiie iiKtori, 
Moon of (lie Medns, and nine (iiiies lie ,'-liiiiil)er(;d, 
"Pill lio liad iiiMsf/onMl (Ju^ wisdom of (Jiisliiiod - 
'rii(^n di<l lie i-e;i(l (lie s(r:in^'e (inures iiiid ntiLdes, 
Traeo all (Jio syiiil)ols, (lie [)ie(,ures (Jioii seest, 
(Jliisoled by (jjuslirioo of (dd on (Ik^ VV}iIi1)<'(^1k — 
MjirveloMS secreJs, wliieli ni;iy n<>(. !><' iidei-ed, 
Sjivin^; (-o liim wlio Inilli ();isse<l (he [)i-<»h;i( ion ; 
Nin(^ (,iln(^s luilJi wjii(('d and nine (inu^s li;i(li sliiiiihered ; 
VVherel'ore (Jic^Ir me;inin«j!,' I iiuiy no(- nnfold. 

(!/ir(>nlc/(i7\ 
Niiy, l)ii(. I prjiy (hee iinCold me (Ik; s(<)ry 
Wlumcyo w(!r(' (J)o p(H)])le, (he (rilx^s of Nali-wo-din ? 
Who worn the aneieids who wen(, (,o (he son(-h huid '^ 
Whcui did t}i(5y como, juid (heir slnyini^' how long? 

Sj)irit of ih(' Walihcch. 
()v(;r llu! Ijind wlierci IIh^ vvA mon Inive wjindered, 



54 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Long ere the germs of this forest were planted — 
Back in the years which the sachem calls Shah Shah ; 
Dwelt a great people, whose kings were a hundred — 
Wise in the arts of the field and the workshop — 
Some by the waters which flow to the north wind, 
Some by the ocean which lies to the east ; 
Some by the vales of the bright Alabama, 
Some by the rolling Ohio, and others 
Dwelling along the great Father of Waters — 
Dwelling in city and hamlet and field. 

Forces which lurk in the veins of the mountains. 
Depths of the oceans, and orbs of the heavens. 
Wrought in the breath of the winds, in the vapors, 
Dewdrops and simbeams ; their marvelous alchemy — 
Wrought in the seasons with dire purturbation — 
Days smote with blasting and nights scattered mildew — 
Famine came wasting the strength of the land. 

Forth from the northland came hordes of the wilderness; 
Tribes of the red men as locusts in multitude ; 
Uttering the war whoop and whirling the war club — 
Warriors who smote Avith the red tomahica — 
Plumed for the combat, and ravening for slaughter — 
As flames of the plain fire when greedy of havoc. 
They ramp on the north wind, o'erleaping each other, 
In hurrying serpent-like measureless lines ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 55 

So came their swift bands ever fiercer and stronger ; 
Smiting the village with fire and destruction. 
Slaughtering the flocks and the herds with their keepers ; 
Wasting the harvest field ; 
Trampling the remnant of orchard and vine. 

All the wise men of the nations assembled, 
Each to his fortress to council for safety ; 
Old men and hoary with chiefs of the armies, 
Medas of wisdom and famous astrologers ; 
All who were wise in the sight of the people. 
Came to the cities most famous for knowledge — 
All the high priests of the great Montezuma, 
Came to the temples in solemn processions, 
Offered the sacrifice, lighted the incense, 
Uttered the prayers which their fathers commanded, 
Bowing before the bright face of the image, 
Wrought in fine gold on the east of the temple ; 
Falling in reverence before the divinity. 
Clothed in the sunbeam above the high altar ; 
Chanting the anthems of high adoration, 
Crying for help for the nations distressed. 

O'er all the land were the signals of mourning ; 
All through the nations were dread and perplexity ; 
Everywhere heard were the voices of wailing ; 
Crying, What means this great anger of Mathro ? 



56 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Wherefore the hordes of the stranger who smite us \ 
.Red is the night with the fire of our homesteads, 
Furrowed is earth mth the graves of the perished ; 
Hunger hath wasted the strength of our warriors ; 
Fear hath come down on the hearts of the princes ; 
Who shall deliver the rest of the people; 
Those whom the famine and slaughter have spared ? 

Then did great Gushnoo, the wisest of prophets, 
Wiser than all of the servants of Mathro, 
Come to the fountain and rock at the full moon, 
Bearing the signet of light, with the symbols 
Sacred to Yah Hoh, supreme of all spirits ; 
Uttering the words which the master of knowledge 
Taught to the chosen from days of the ancients — 
Uttering the sentence which Yah Hoh on hearing, 
Only will answer with awful revealings ; 
Else, with the stroke of the instant Wai-wass-i-me, 
Bolt of his vengeance he holds in the cloud. 

*^Hear, O thou master of life, in thy dwelling; 
High in thy awful pavilion of secrecy — 
Hear thou how Gushnoo hath ventured to call thee— 
Ventured to utter the words of decision — 
Those which shall bring him the gift of thy spirit ; 
Else on his head thy swift bolt of destruction — 
Fastings and labors, and vigils and weariness. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 57 

Gushnoo hath borne in the stress of his people — 

Borne in the rites of the seven-fold purgations — 

These have with suffering quickened his spirit ; 

'Now are the days of his purification ; 

Never henceforth can he nearer approach thee. 

Give now the secret no Meda possesses, 

Show him the things of the wonderful future — 

Those which are ordered to come on his people — 

Give him the power which was lost by our father, 

When the great sin of his soul was committed ; 

When the first bloodshed was kno^vn among mortals — 

Power which no son of the first-born hath asked thee ; 

Give now the secret or smite with thy bolt. 

Hast thou not seen how the priests have forgotten ? 

Prophets forsake thee to worship thy ministers — 

Temples had Mathro, and now Montezuma, 

'None of these nations doth know thee save Gushnoo ? 

Since the last Master of Light hath been smitten, 

Gushnoo alone hath the words of this wisdom ; 

Here on the rock hath he written the symbols, 

Sacred to light, for the wise of hereafter ; 

So if thou smite they may stand through the ages — 

So if one come from beyond the great waters, 

Skilled in thy knowledge, his heart may be strengthened ; 

Seeing that here hath been one of his fellows — 

Give now the knowledge to rescue my people. 

Show me thy favor, or smite with thy bolt. 



58 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

The praying of Guslmoo was ended. 

Stillness came over all creatures. 

The trees of the wood bowed in reverence. 

The fountain drew back in its channel. 

The air was as pitch of the coal pit. 

No voice of the mighty was uttered ; 

But silence, and darkness, and terror. 

Wrapped all the scene for a season ; 

The life of all being stood still ; 

Quelled in that stillness unspeakable ; 

^Till the dread vision was ended. 

Leaped then the fountain with gladness, 

Danced all the winds in their circuits exulting. 

The trees of the wood swept their harpstrings — 

The rock throbbed accord to the anthem. 

Transplendent with emerald and fire — 

The colors of mom and of even. 

Flowed in the flame of the sunbeam ; 

As the glory the billows of Chebar 

Poured on the soul of the Hebrew ; 

Afterwards poured on the Hebrew, 

When the great vision he saw. 

The vision of Guslmoo ivas ended. 

Then did great Gushnoo the wisest of prophets 
Come to the cities and courts of the princes, 
Come to the temples, and cry to the people — 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 59 

Cry to the rulers and elders assembled, 
Utterini^ the wisdom of A'ah TToh, and saying, 
What is the council of words without knovvledi]^e ? 
Where is the wisdom which dwelloth witli falsehood ? 
What save destruction comes forth of confusion, 
Wrought by the evil designs of the foolisli ? 
I who have searched out the secrets of wisdom, 
Known to the wise of our fathers through ages ; 
Came to the place where the spirit unsoarcluiblo, 
Showed me the knowledge which dwelt with the prophets, 
Showed me the lot of the tribes and their rulers — 
Visions of that wliich shall come, did he give me — 
Showed me that famine shall scourge all the countries — 
Hosts of the stranger shall swarm without ceasing. 
Fierce as the white bear and cruel as panthers — 
Showed me the land to their hand is delivered. 
That it may lie from henceforth as a wilderness ; 
Dwelling of beasts, and the tribes of the ])lains. 

All the fair villages wait for destruction ; 
Temple and grove shall in ashes be sunken. 
Flocks and their keepers devoured in tlie slaughter. 
Warrior and aged, with maidens and children. 
All must be gathered as grapes to the vintage ; 
Hearth stone and altar grow cold in the solitude; 
Orchard and garden with brambles be sown. 



60 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Also he showed me, 

Way of escape for the rest of the people. 

Far to the southward there spreads a great coimtrj, 

Lying between the bright shores of two oceans, 

Fair are its mountains and pleasant its valleys. 

Fruits of rare flavor arc borne in its forests; 

Stones of great beauty and wonderful metals 

Dwell in its mountains and sands of its rivers ; 

Bright is its heaven and pleasant its air. 

There let us hasten. 

Bearing our treasures and driving onr flocks. 

There is the land wliich the ruler of kingdoms 

Gives to the remnant escaped from these nations ; 

Land whicli the seers in vision foretold ; 

There will we gather our flocks in the pastures; 

Plant again vineyards and build again cities. 

Reap in the valleys and rear again altars — 

Worship again as our fathers of old. 

Then all of the people approving the prophet. 
Gathered their flocks and their herds and their treasure 
Forth to the land of the south went their multitudes ; 
Leaving their country to be as a wilderness. 
Traversed alone by the wandering savage ; 
Left their high mounds to the growth of the forest. 
Hearthstones and threshing floors, vineyards and fields. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 61 

Theologist. 
Surely this prophet was one of the righteous, 
One like the patriarchs — 
One like the chosen of Israel of old. 
Would that his words had been graven on pillars, 
Traced on the parchment as those of the Hebrew ; 
Then might I read in their deep revelations, 
Things of the highest, long lost to his worshipers, 
Lost with the rolls of the seers of yore. 

Hath not he simg in that language forgotten, 
Songs to the Lord, as did Seth and Elijah — 
Such as rolled high o'er the rock crests of Ararat — 
Such as went up from the wheat fields of Israel, 
When the lost ark was returned to its rest ? 
Who shall recover those strains of all ages; 
Poured from the lips of the wise and the holy. 
Burdened with thouglits whereon angels have pondered. 
Had I the volume of lost hallelujas. 
What were the lore of the heathen but rubbish ? 
Dross, unto him of such treasure possessed. 

Poet. 
Truly the things of thy story are wonderful, 
Wise shall he be who partakes of thy knowledge ; 
Would I might gather thy thoughts unto mine. 
Yet near to my spirit strange visions are hovering, 
Visions of brightness obscured as in twilight, 



62 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Images born of the days thou art speaking of — 
Thoughts of the poets who dwelt in these solitudes, 
When the fresh earth wore her garments of youth ; 
Ere her bright sky had grown dim, or her sunlight 
Paled through the cycles of evil and sorrow; 
As the bright eye beam of beauty is darkened — 
Dimmed by decay of the love light it worshiped 
Through the dark years of affliction and wrong. 

Tell me of visions which flamed on their spirits ; 
Bards of the golden hours, first of life's morning ; 
Dreams which were warm with the life touch of angels ; 
Thoughts which upsoared on the soul wings of poets, 
Words which were borne on the tune wings of song. 

These if thou canst not, still teach me some story 

Known to the bards of tradition and legend — 

Tell me some ballad, the words of a singer, 

One who dwelt near the head waters of sympathy — 

'Not in the cloisters of scornful seclusion ; 

!Not in high places of grandeur and wantonness 

Holding wild revel with passions uncouth — 

One who beloved by the gentle and noble, 

Sat by the threshhold with sister-like graces; 

Sharing the honey and milk of simplicity, 

In the sweet tents of affection and truth. 



The Song ov the Wahbeek. 63 

Spirit of the Waliheeh. 
Where the prairie of the west, 
Purple swale and sunny crest; 
Scented grove and scattered woodlands, 
All in sunnner glory dressed ; 
Through the ever-growing distance, 

Stretches on; 
From Mi-chee-gan's placid shore, 
To the rocky summit's hoar — 
From the reedy Minne-wakon, 
To the snowy Sierra Madre, 
To the rolling Colorado, 
Thrice a hundred leagues and more, 
The blossom- jeweled carpet 
Of its undulating floor. 

Stretches on, and on. 



On a highland once as fair; 
Now a mesa lone and bare, 
Where the owl and serpent share 
In the barking chien's lair, (^^) 
And the spiteful cactus blossoms 
In the sunny summer air; 
And the prowling desert coyote 
Howls alone; 

(11) "In the barking chien's lair; Plainsmen know that the owl, 
rattlesnake, and prairie-dog- are sometimes found amicably occupying- the 
same nest near a bunch of cactus. 



64r TiiM 8()N({ OK 'I'liK Waiiheick. 

StiiTids n ])()ii(rr()iis rock of old, 
Of a slT}nii;(» and massy mould, 
Sincc^ IIk^ pi-iiiial ai^cs roll'd; 
With a soiiii; unsiiiii;' by any — 
Wil.l» a liislory iniwrillon, 
Willi a inyslory untold, 
And nnknown. 

And ri<;iil wondrously il stands, 
Lik(* tli(> work (d' niii;*lity bands, 
l>y tlu^ force of art and labor 

Set on bii;-h ; 
On a bni»;c and rni2,i!,(Ml stono, 
Not a brotluM- of its own ; 
i)y soinc^ power tifauic Ibi'own 
On that silent spot and lone; 
In the nn recorded tunmlts 

Of tliG years gone by. 

Tliore it stands as lboni2,'li it were 
Fixed immovably with care; 
On that formb^ss i^-ranite socle; 
Like a i»:iant's |)on<rrous anvil, 

In its |)lace; 
Ibit thoni»-h <i-ian('s nii^-hl in xain 
Sirive to beav(^ it np amain; 
Or lh(^ balll(Ml winlrv hMnpest 



The SoNa ok tfik Waiiukkk. 66 

Seek to liurl it to i\w. plain ; 
Every wind which hvmh IJk^ thistle, 
Kocks it tx) and fro ai»airi, 
On its bas(\ 



When tlic siiiiiiiKir lifo is shiin, 
And the fire hath s(!aro(l the ])hiin ; 
And a disnjal inky slain, 
From the ]>]ack and sochhm ciiKh-rs, 
In the still Novomb(!r rain, 

Covers all ; 
And the eh)nds npon I he sky, 
Heaped in snllcMi masses lie; 
Or come slowly driftin<,^ by, 
Kvvr sadder lo tlie spirit, 
Ever darker on the eye; 
And the elammy winds an; sobbin^^ 
Throni>h the vajmrs dark tliat settle 
As a pall ; 



Then in loneliness it towers, 
Thron^di the melaneholy honrs; 
To th(! shiftin^!^ cnrrents roekin^', 

All the day; 
As the symbol of a sonl, 
VVhieh tlioiioh j rifles mneh e/mtrol. 
Centre fK)ised npon a purpose^ 



06 The Song of the Waiibeek. 

Standetli permanent and whole ; 
Though the storms of passion struggle, 
As they may. 

When the light comes down anew, 
l^ringing rays of every hue, 
To the jewels of the dew ; 
And the music of the morning 

Is in all the quickened air ; 
And the winds are breathing balm, 
And a holiness and calm, 
Like the hushing of a psalm ; 
Lies o'er all the golden distance 

Of the landscape fair. 

Then superbly doth it stand, 
Ever solemn, stern and grand ; 
I^ooking out upon tlie land ; 
Over all the quiet beauty 

Of the scene; 
As a soul sublimely great, 
Whicli vicissitudes of fate 
Neitlier vanquish nor elate, 
'^lid the pleasant things of fortune. 

Dwells serene. 

When the evening's light has fled. 
And the niffht comes dim and dread. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 07 

And tlie stars are overhead, 

And the spirits lightly trend, 

In their undiscovered wand'rings 

On the air; 
Comes a wailing, broken sound. 
Like a murnnir from the ground, 
A memorial of a sorrow. 
Which the night wind ever keepeth. 
For a shuddering spirit bound 

In despair. 

In a land that distant lies. 

Under bluer, colder skies. 

Where the glories of the northlight, 

Biathe the hills in colored flame ; 
In the years no date that knew 
We were one who now are two — 
We were one with thousand others ; 
Still the jagged scars we shew; 
Where the yawning rifts went through; 
When the bolt which smote from under, 
At a stroke of one made many. 
And a thousand leagues asunder. 
Do we lie, the severed fragments 

Of the same. 

Yet a tale there was of yore. 
By a singer told before ; 



68 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

One whose words are with the echoes. 
Of a language heard no more ; 

Since the earth grew old ; 
Tale of vengeance and despair, 
Mighty deeds that few may dare; 
Of a love on earth most rare ; 
Which the love recording angels 
Wrote in jeweled symbols fair; 

On their leaves of gold. 

In that land so fair and good, 
In the centre of a wood. 
By the rocking stone which stood ; 
With its avenues majestic, 

Opening broad and fair ; 
Did a wondrous temple stand. 
With its portals firm and grand. 
Looking o'er the cultured land ; 
And there came the priestly band, 
To the morning adoration. 
And the noon-day invocation, 

And the twilight prayer. 

And a palace stood apart. 
Wrought with curious ancient art ; 
Rich and rare in every part ; 
And there dwelt the sordid monarch 
Of the realm around ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 69 

Valiant captains of the guard, 
With the brand and buckler hard, 
'Eound the despot's awful presence, 
Kept perpetual watch and ward ; 
In a life league bound. 

And across the plains, away 
In a land that distant lay. 
By a silvery billowed bay 
Of the rolling Gitohee Gumee, 

In a sun bright glen ; 
Dwelt a shepherd old and wise, 
Who had walked in simple guise 
In the pleasant ways of knowledge, 
Down the vale of years which lies, 

To his three score ten. 

And the lamp of life with him 
As a cresset burning dim. 
In a minster old and dim. 
At the close of prayer and hymn ; 
Flickered faintly to its ceasing, 
And his voice was low ; 
As he called his sons to stand 
N^ear him, one on either hand ; 
And they bent at his command ; 
Kneeling low upon the sand ; 



70 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

For the whispered benediction 
And the blessing of the hand, 
He would then bestow\ 

Then began the hoary sage ; 
^^Hear the words of ripest age ; 
Words of wisdom's broadest page — 
I am tottering on the threshhold 

Of the unseen land ; 
I have come through storm and light, 
Beaming day and dismal night ; 
Camping oft with pleasures bright. 
On the upland's sunny height — 
Oft in vales with weeping sorrows, 
Wailing children of the night. 

As a household band. 

' Soon I walk with silent tread. 
From the living fields outspread. 
To the city of the dead — 
To the night's mysterious kingdom, 

With its voiceless throng — 
Thou, my Mandan, soon shalt go 
To the strife of lance and bow — 
Thou, my younger, wake the glow 
Of the burning thoughts wliich flow 
With the viol's soul communings. 

And the voice of song. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 7 J 

I have walked with staff and crook, 
By the hillside and the brook- 
Dwelt in tents amid the pastures 

On the plain ; 
Yet a time there was, my hand 
Bore the jewel-hilted brand — 
Bore the sceptre of command. 
O'er the heroes who are mingled 

With the slain. 

When the battle tide shall roll. 
Keep the honor of thy soul ; 
Let thy strong ambition's goal 
Be the meed of truth and valor. 

This shall form thy crown; 
For the hero's sword is made 
Justice hiked, and its blade 
Is with fortitude inlaid ; 
And its point is tipped with mercy, 

For a foe cast do^vn. 

If thy equal thou shalt smite, 
There is justice for the right — 
But to crush the weak in fight. 
Brings no honor to thy might ; 
And thy soul shall feel 
All the punishment of shame ; 



72 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

When thy foe shall do the same ; 
This shall be his retribution, 

Who has stained his steel. 

Trust not him of constant smile, 
Fear thou not the boaster's wile; 
Spurn the messengers of guile ; 
Slow resolve, and swiftly venture 

In thy deed. 
Hold a given secret dear; 
To thy friend be ever near ; 
For the weapon-brother ever 
Is the arm-band of thy spear, 

In thy need. 

If in strife of voice and lyre 
Thou to triumph shalt aspire ; 
'Tis the flame of truth immortal. 
Which shall kindle all the fire 

Of thy soul or song; 
As the eye unto the seer, 
To the singer is the ear ; 
Wherefore things of hidden wisdom 

Unto both belong. 

Lay me down to final rest, 
On the hill of lofty crest ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 73 

Where the sunbeam of the morning 
Drives the shadows of the west 

From the shore ; 
Where the shattered pines are strown, 
And the dead oak waits alone ; 
'Till the dust of all his glory, 
Shall be mingled with mine own, 

Evermore. 

This the ancient singer told, 
This and more the shepherd old, 
Spoke with whispering broken utterance 
Ere his blanching lips grew cold ; 

Also there 
Did he give to Mandan bold. 
First, a royal sword of old ; 
Then a lyre to him the younger ; 
Wrought with sacred gems and gold — 
Each a mighty charm did hold — 
And his hands he crossed upon them, 
That in blessing and abundance, 

They might share. 

When in silent death he lay. 
Bore him thence his sons away ; 
In the morning twilight gray ; 
Laid him down to pulseless slumber. 



74 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

On the bill of lofty smninit, 
By the rolling Gitchee Gumee, 
By the silvery billowed bay, 

With a prayer. 
Placed the mistletoe above him, 
Set the markstone o'er his clay — 
Looking toward the east away, 

Sleeps he there. 

Then went Mandan boldly forth, 
O'er the waste and boundless north ; 
Where the sleepless stars nnsetting 

Ever roll ; 
O'er the mountain's jagged steep, 
Through the gorges dark and deep ; 
Through the ever-reaching forests ; 
O'er the snowy plains which sleep 
Wliere the icy rivers creep, 

Toward the pole. 

For he sought a matchless prize. 
In a wond'rous land ; which lies 
Far beneath the arctic skies ; 
Only mentioned in traditions. 

By the ancient Medas told — • 
And his father's sword he bore. 
With its charmed blade of yore; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 75 

On his head a pluine he wore ; 
And his ringing shield of coi)per 
Flashed with jewels, which before, 
Were a monarch's chosen store, 
In a land of old. 

'Till he reached a wintry shore, 
Hemmed by mountains sharp and hoar; 
Fenced with citadels of frostwork 

Where the ice caves shone; 
Crystal palaces of more 
Than imperial splendor, glittering 
In the sparkling air which bore 
All the rainbow's tints and more — 
All the marvelous hues which pour 

From the frost king's throne. 

For the wond'rous light there flows, 
Which the mystic north fire throws. 
Mingling every hue which glows 

In each gem and flower; 
O'er the jeweled sky and land, 
Valley deep and mountain grand ; 
Forests marshaled with their legions 
Like a halted host, which stand. 
With their snowy plmnes high waving. 

By their rock-piled towers. 



76 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

There a mighty river's tide, 
Swei:>t with current deep and wide ; 
Wrecks of forests, crashing ice reefs, 
On its turbid waves did ride 

To the northward seas ; 
On the shaded solemn shores, 
Boundless woodlands spread their stores- 
There did Mandan build his vessel 

Framed of stalwart trees. 

And the spirits of the shores — 
Brought him curious sails and oars ; 
Cords of strangest sea vine twisted ; 
Anchors forged of precious ores ; 

By their gnome-like skill; 
All his comrades hand to hand. 
On the rocky hill and strand. 
Like the beaver's busy band. 

Labored, wondering still. 

Ere the moon had changed her horn. 
Or the wond'rous arctic morn. 
Ushered in the annual noontide 
To tlie further isles forlorn ; 
Was the perfect vessel borne 

On the tide ; 
Past the headland's turrets grim. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. . 77 

Through the mist clouds dank and dim; 
Through the tortuous straights and seaways, 
By the icefield's jagged rim — 
O'er the deep sea's glassy billows, 
Where the frost-built mountains swim, 
Did she glide. 

To a coast of dreadful height, 
Piled with glaciered mountains white ; 
From whose countless spires electric 
Doth the marvelous arctic light. 
Blaze trem.endous on the sight ; 
When the winter's dreary night 

Sternly reigns — 
There a winding chasm led 
Through the mountain barrier dread, 
To the happy vales which spread, 
Where a kindlier nature ordered. 
And a joyous life was shed 

O'er the plains. 

There the month-long noon is bright ; 
There the swimming mellow light 
Glows and fades through lunar cycles, 

All the long, long day. 
Fenced within their granite towers. 
From the outer storm which lowers ; 



78 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Lie the odorous fields and bowers ; 
Where the strange revolving sunlight, 
Paints with stranger hues the flowers, 
Those which sleep not all the hours, 
Of their dewless May. 

Through the gorge did Mandan haste. 
From the wintry, watery waste ; 
'Twixt the towering glassy bastions. 

Toward the pole — 
Through the happy vales that lay 
Farther on his venturous way — 
Yet in these he might not stay ; 
If his hand would grasp the treasure 

Of his soul. 

On, where silvery rivers rolled. 
By the hanging rock and wold ; 
On through sloping fields of roses ; 
Plains of billowy green and gold — 
Meads whose blossom caskets hold 
Odorous gems of candied nectar, 
Sealed in cells of curious mould ; 

Jewel crowned. 
Hues of morning's march of fire, 
Mingled tints of Eve's attire ; 
In the festal sunlight floated ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. Y9 

O'er the plains and breezy uplands, 
O'er the mountain forests higher — 
Day born winds that life inspire, 
Waked the forest's chapel music ; 
Every tree attuned its lyre; 
Every vale its flute note echoes 
Joined around. 

Thus his changing journey led, 
'Till he reached a valley dread ; 
Deep and dark and dismal valley ; 
Doleful region of the dead — 
Sulph'rous clouds around it spread, 
Which a noisome odor shed; 
There the sunlight enters never. 
And the stars are fierce and red ; 
Circling over it forever ; 
And the pole star overhead, 
Never sleeps. 

There no living creatures go. 
There no plant of earth may grow ; 
There the boiling fountains leaping, 
Eorth their hissing torrents throw ; 
And the lurid earth-fire's glow. 
Lights the chasms far below; 
And an awful voice from under 



80 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Loudly booms, or doleful mutters ; 
Which the suffocating thunders, 
In their prison caverns utter 
From the deeps. 

Hither Mandan boldly sped, 
Passing through the portals dread, 
Not with feeble fearful tread ; 
For a courage more than mortal 

Dwelt in him; 
Far behind him on the plain. 
Did his comrades all remain; 
Chilled the blood within their veins, 
Lest the spirits' hot displeasure 
Smite their leader and his train. 
Should the venture prove in vain. 
In that terrible domain 

Of the fearful Rhim. 

As he passed the outer bound, 
Black the horrid portals frowned ; 
Black beneath the oozy ground ; 
Black the clammy air about him ; 
Black the tumbling clouds around — 
Vomited the yawning chasms. 
Pitchy fumes which struggled upward, 
Through contending blasts, around ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 81 

And the quaking ledges bore him 
On, through horrors more profound ; 

Spreading far; 
Yet within that hall of doom, 
Saw he through the hideous gloom, 
By that strange light's subtle magic, 
Which such horrors doth illume; 
Though 'twere all as midnight's womb ; 
Shut from light of sun or planet, 

Moon or star. 

Every voice the winds may bear, 
Of the fire, or sea, or air ; 
Every sound of earth or river, 
Swelled in wide confusion there, 

Harsh, and mild ; 
Sounds of waterfalls that leap ; 
Boom of tide waves strong and deep ; 
Groan of forests, crack of icebergs, 
Hailstones' rattle, streamlets' purling, 

Soft, and wild. 

As he stepped, the earth below. 
Rumbling rocked with earthquake's throe ; 
Stunning thunders crashed about him. 

At each breath; 
As he further trod, did roar 



82 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Sounds of whelming fire before ; 
Crash of avalanche bursting o'er him, 
Jetting vapor's hissing roar — 
^oise of tumbling rocks and lava, 
Thundered past and evermore 
Whizzing meteors 'round and o'er, 
Horrid darts of fire did pour ; 
Blood red flames and blue commingled, 
Rode the sulph'rous blasts which bore 
Bolts of death. 

Thus 'mid sights and sovmds of dread. 
Toiled he on with sturdy tread ; 
On, through leagues where dangers thickened 
'Eound his feet and o'er his head, 

More and more ; 
Till within that circle drear, 
Did a wondrous place appear. 
Filled with more and mightier terrors, 
There had human vision never 

Pierced before. 

There the Spirit of the Earth, 
Since the universe had birth ; 
Eliim, the son of light and darkness, 

Keigns alone — 
In that central spot of all, 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 83 

Hath he reared his wonder hall ; 
'Not of tower and buttress tall, 
Pillared front or chiseled wall, 
All his marvelous pavilion, 
With its dark and dreadful glories, 
Would a mortars heart appall. 
Should thej on his vision fall — 
And within his awful curtains 
Of the blended day and night : 
Darkness dread, and fearful light — 
Of the fierce electric light 
And the midnight's blackest pall; 
On a rock both huge and tall — 
Rock of loadstone huge and tall, 
Is his throne. 



In his fearful, reaching hands 
Doth he hold the viewless bands 
Of the earth and changing planets — 
Of the stars and flying comets. 
Which terrestrial order keep ; 
And his sceptre of command 
Touches every sea and land ; 
And the tidal surges leap, 
At his breathing on the deep, 
And the rising earthquakes answer 
At his call : 



84 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

And the thunder voice replies 
Mid the tumult of the skies ; 
And the scathing lightnings fly 
At the glancing of his eye ; 
And the hailstorms thunder by ; 
And the whirlwinds at his bidding 
Hasten all. 

There did Mandan gaze with awe, 
On the wond'rous things he saw ; 
Things which mortal cannot utter 

Though he knew — 
Only this he might unfold ; 
Mandan living did behold, 
Rhim upon his throne of loadstone ; 
And the terrible revealings 
Smote his blood with horrid cold, 
Though the charmed sword of old 
Fated talisman of safety, 

Forth he drew. 

Yet the terror quickly passed, 
And his heart beat loud and fast 
When the mighty spirit cast 
Gracious countenance upon him. 
Saying, cometh one at last ? 
Hath no mortal of the past 
Dared as thou. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 85 

Thus to claim my awful aid ? 
Since the ancient charm was laid 
On thy wonder-working blade, 
ISTone hath dared before me stand, 
And the promised boon demand, 
AVhich I here bestow upon thee, 
Until now. 

Here a higher prize behold 
To thy spirit fierce and bold ; 
Than the jeweled crown or sceptre, 

Monarchs wear : 
This, the Stone of Power, is thine, 
On thy shield of war to shine — 
By its potency divine, 
Human hands or arts malign. 
For thy hurt in vain combine ; 
None shall stand before thy weapon. 
When they see the mystic sign 

Glowing there. 

This the ancient singer told ; 
This, and more in days of old : 
This and more, how Mandan bold, 
From the presence of the spirit, 

Did withdraw : 
From that terrible domain. 
Toward the pleasant world again, 



so The Song of the Wahbeek. 

To his comrades on the plain ; 
Who had watched for him in pain, 
Fearing all his venture vain ; 
Till they scarce believed him present 
Whom they deemed among the slain, 
When they saw. 

Back across the pleasant land ; 
By the streams with golden sand, 
Many a lakelet's lilied strand. 
Went the joyful hearted band ; 

Journeying slow ; 
'Mid the yellow sleepless flowers, 
Purple woods and fruited bowers, 
'Neath tihe strange revolving sunlight. 
Where the birds sing all the hours — 
All the month-long morning hours, 

Did they go. 

Through the pass they trod before, 
Twixt the glassy heights which soar; 
To the cragged wintry shore — 
To the north light's frigid birth place — 
On the bounding ship once more 

Did they stand — 
Soon across the friendly seas. 
Did they sweep, for now a breeze, 



The Song of the Waiibeek. 87 

Through the winding gorge^ which issued, 
From the pleasant land beyond, 
Asa breathing soft and fond, 
Bore them swiftly on with ease, 
Toward their land. 

On the tapering masts it blew ; 
'Till to stately trees they grew ; 
Trees of rare and beauteous foliage ; 
Which the North land forests knew ; 
And the ropes as vines anew, 
Clambered all the branches through ; 
And the sails as garlands flew. 

On the air; 
^Till they reached the homeward strand 
With the arctic forests grand. 
And the citadels of frostwork — 
Scarce the prow had touched the land. 
Ere the planks and beams did stand 
Clianged to rock and shell and sand ; 
As a portion of the strand ; 
With the vines and mast trees firmly 

Planted there. 

Now their homeward way they keep. 
Where the icy rivers sweep ; 
O'er the snowy plains that sleep, 



88 The Sono of the Waiibeek. 

Tlirong'li the f»()r<»os dark and deep; 
O'er tli(^ ja<^god iriountalns steep; 

'Till the midnig-bt sun 
Tips the northward mountain chain- 
'Till across the boundless plain, 
Sunset's fires they greet again; 
And tlu^ fitful north-lights signal 

Half the mareh is done. 

Passing deserts grim and bare, 
Blooming groves and valleys fair, 
Through the ever reaching forests 

On through glade and fen : 
On by cabin, fort and tower, 
Farthest bound of human power, 
l>y the hamlet, field. and city; 

P)Usy haunt of men : 
To tlie distant land which lay. 
By the silvery billowed bay 
Of the rolling Gitchee Gumee: 

To the sim-bright glen. 

This the ancient singer told, 
This, and more did Mandan bold. 
When he went u|Km his journey 
O^n- the North land wide and cold: 
For the royal sword of old, 



The Song of tue Waiibkek. 89 

Which the shepherd gave to liim, 

In his lifers last hour, 
Bore in mystic figures dim, 
By a wizard's miglity magic, 
All the awful charm of KJiim ; 
So that who the blade dare bring 
To tlie Sj)irit's fearful presence, 
Should a wond'rous treasure win ; 
Known to ancient Medas only : 

Called the Stone of Power. 

Ere the night her shadows brought 
For his brother Mandan sought: 
Him the shepherds named froiri childhood, 
Klo-lo-war, of happy thought ; 

Of the lyre and song ; 
Through the glen and by the bay. 
By the hills and streams away, 
Tn the fields and tents of shepherds, 

Sought he far and long. 

But his seeking was in vain, 
Through the forests and the plain ; 
But these tidings could he gain ; 
That when Spring was in the meadows. 

He had flown : 
Why, or whither, none could say, 



90 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Who had seen him on his way : 
He had passed beyond the valleys 
With his lyre and staff away, 
All alone. 

To a land which lay along, 
Two fair rivers broad and strong, 
Toward the pleasant southwind lying; 
Land of sunlight and of song, 

Went he on. 
Broad the plains before him lay, 
Mighty rivers crossed his way ; 
Yet with joyful heart he journeyed, 
Where the forest's leafy curtains 
Stretched continuously away; 
By the vales and meadows gay, 
Tesselled all with gems of May : 
For his soul was filled with music — 
Filled with visions all the day ; 
Gentle as the twilight's ray ; 
Glorious as the leaping splendors 

Of the dawn. 

Through a country wide and good, 
To a temple old, which stood. 
In the centre of a wood ; 
One whose avenues majestic. 

Opened broad and fair: 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 1M 

To a mossy rock which rose 
Clad with twining grape and rose ; 
And his staff he laid beside him, 
And his lyre's sweet tones arose, 
In the evening light's repose ; 
And the birds and breezes listened, 
And the echoes only whispered ; 
As each low melodioiTS close 

Tlirilled the grateful air : 

All the fields fresh odors bore. 
All the trees new jewels wore ; 
Which the maiden of the rainbow, 
From her casket's mingled store — 
From her scented vase did pour 
To the roses and the spikenards, 

As she passed : 
And the purple clouds rolled higher. 
And the western pearl and fire. 
With the rainbow colors mingling ; 
Over forest, field and spire. 
Ever changeable attire. 

Gently cast. 

Then a maiden strangely fair. 
All her charms more saintly rare, 
In the slanting sunbeams glowing, 
In the amber tinted air ; 



92 TiiK SoN(j OF THE Wahukek. 

Stood benealii Uic^ sccutod curl a Ins 

Of the spicewood bower: 
ITeodint!; Id in, and lilni alone, 
By the ancient rocl<int!j stones; 
Lingerinij^, wonderin*;-, listeninfi,' ever 
To the melodies wliicli n(wer 
Mortal ear or sonl had known 
Till that hour. 

As tho blissful strains did swim, 
On the ear and through the spirit, 
Grew her eyes with tear mists dim : 
And \wr sonl was all on him, 

Till he ceased : 
Rueful then to hear no more, 
Wandered she the gardc^ns o'er, 
Toward the ancient curious palace^; 
And the singer ])assing, hastened, 
To the temple's ()])en door; 
Where the mystic ritc's of yore 
Called the hiero|)hjintic corps. 
Who the sacred end)lems bore ; 
With the singers and the players 

And the priests. 

Grandly rose the spacious fane, 
With its massixe |)ilhirs twain ; 



The Song of the Waiiijkmk. 93 

And its j^-lorioiiH (Mirtaiiiod Ciliaiiihers, 
Lit with ceaseless lioly (lame: 
And tlie swell ini»' even in _<^ clionis, 
T]ir()ii<>-li the hundred cloisters n^llin^; 
Floated o'er the distant ])lain, 

Full and clear. 
There before Ihe lofty f!,'ate, 
Klo-lo-war did silent wait; 
Of the maiden's beauty dn^amin^, 
When a priest of solemn <2jait, 
(;omint»', roustMl him, SMyiiii;', hasten, 
Wherefore art thou now so late? 
^Tis the festival tomorrow, 
And the chorus singers wait — 

Stay not here. 

For he thoii<i^ht him surely one 
Of the Chanters of the 8nn; 
Those who swelled tlie annual chorus, 
When the Solstice rites begnm ; 

And he led 
Klo-lo-war alon<^ the way, 
Where the sacred garments lay — 
Soon in order he was girded, 
And among tin; chosen choir. 
Did he bear his wond'rons Ivre; 



94 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

With the everliving- garland 
On his head. 



Through the solemn chambers vast, 
Sweeps the grand procession past ; 
Aged priests with snowy mitres, 
And the hierophant the last, 

Do they go : 
Bearing symbols veiled from sight ; 
Of the ancient mystic rite — 
Of the heavenly bodies bright — 
Of the old chaotic night — 
Of the awful birth of light — 
Moving on with doleful requiem 
In the dim sepulchral light. 

Sad and slow — 
All the nuiltitude around, 
With their faces toward the ground. 
Bow with wailing lamentations 
As the solenm hosts go round, 
And the instruments of soimd 
And the singers' voices mingle, 

Strains of woe. 

And the soundings of the dirge, 
Like the echoings of the surge. 
When the winds the leaping billows 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 95 

On the cavemed headlands urge, 

Rise and fall ; 
And the monarch with his crown, 
And the maid with veil and gown, 
And the flamen with his ephod. 
And the Captain of renown, 
And the spearman, with his armor. 
And the tiller grim and brown. 
And the shepherd with his girdle. 
And the servant with his burden. 
With the beggar bowing down. 

Worship all. 

Thus the solemn pageant swept. 
And the priests their vigils kept, 
'Till the lingering hours had crept 

Past the midnight's bourne : 
And the night's last tears were wept. 
And the sun to wait his triumph, 
In his eastern chamber slept. 
And his shining herald stepped (^^) 
Forth before the rosy threshold. 

Of the morn. 

Now the chorus grand must rise. 
As he mounts the glowing skies ; 

(12) "And his shining herald stepped." The planet Mercury being 
very near the sun, often appears as the Morning Star when the eastern skv 
is red. 



96 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

And the chanters all assemble : 



And the multitude, their eyes 
To the eastern glories turning, 

Silent stand ; 
When, as yet to all unknown. 
As the flamen's signal shone, 
Klo-lo-war to sound the anthem, 
Stood before the host alone ; 
Girt with holy azure zone. 
With his lyre of wond'rous tone. 

In his hand. 

With his lyre upon his arm. 

And his bow, which bore a charm — 

Not the spell of any wizard, 

Not the touch of powers that harm,- 

Only Harmony's hidden working 

Did it hold : 
For the sacred chords of sound, 
Hold a mystery profound, — 
Have a mystic inner concord. 
With their harmonies inwound, — 
Have a strain of perfect numbers, 
Which no cunning can divine ; 
Which if human hand combine 
Brings a charm which is divine. 

On the soul. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 97 

This did Klo-lo-war alone, 
Of all mortals ever known ; 
When he sang beside the stone, — 
When his soul in dreams had flown, 
And his hand unwitting wandered. 

To and fro ; 
And his touch the hidden numbers 
Drew in concert from the shell ; 
And the strings were fired with rapture. 
From the coming of the spell, — 
From the power which instant fell. 

On his bow. 

With his form of solemn air, 
With his features nobly fair, 
And his limbs of graceful motion. 
And his golden glowing hair. 
To his symboFd vestment floating. 
Did he stand sublimely there. 

In the throng : 
As the morning stars grew pale, 
And the night's mysterious veil, 
Slowly toward the western mountains 
Passed from over plain and vale ; 
Rose his words of wond'rous fire. 
To the gushings of the lyre. 
Which the bow enchanted, kindled : 



98 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

And the dumb and listening choir 
Found no power to wake their voices 
In the song. 

Song of Klo-lo-war, 

Rise ! Rise ! Rise ! 
Haste, O most glorious, ride in thj might, 
Forth on thy course through the welcoming skies : 
Haste from thy innermost chamber, which lies, 
Far in the depth of the infinite night ; 
Speed to thy goal on the uppermost skies. 

Rise, O thou mighty, arise ! 

Hail! Hail! Hail! 
Earth to thy presence exultingly leaps, — 
Ocean and river, and mountain and dale, 
Shout with their hosts, when thy chariot sweeps 
Forth through the fields of the lazulite deeps, — 
Shout when thy strength shall in triiunph prevail ; 

Hail in thy glory, all hail ! 

Light! Light! Light! 
This is thy life-bearing gift from of old, — 
Void were creation, omnipotent night, — 
Earth but a chaos, the universe cold ; 
If thou from the sky's blackened vault shouldst take flight 
Or the flame spring of mortal existence withhold, — 

Light, O ineffable light ! 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 99 

Dead ! Dead ! Dead ! 
Earth as a corpse in the blackness would lie, — 
Only the stars their pale glimmering shed, 
As lamps of the death scene eternal, ont-spread ; 
But spirits of hell keep the watch of the dead ; 
And voices of night through the pall of the sky. 

Utter a wail of the dead. 

But flow, flow, flow : 
Beauty of excellence ; glory of all ; 
And heaven from its highest, and earth from below. 
Thine ample pavilion of glory shall glow ; 
The desert of death to a paradise grow ; 
And life and delight, which thy glances recall, 

Through the jubilant universe flow. 

Behold ! Behold ! Behold ! 
'Tis the flame of his locks on the firmament borne ; 
And the stars dare not look through the azure unrolled. 
On the pavement of fire, and of jacinth and gold ; 
Which is spread for his march through the arch of the mom 

He comes to his triumph, behold ! 

Shout! Shout! Shout! 
Hosts of all nature come forth with delight : 
Islands and shores, send your greetings about : 
Peoples and kingdoms, with rapture unite — 
Wake the loud chorus for vanquished is night — 



100 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Sing as he rises, full girded with might, — 
The dome of high heaven holds the jubilee bright ; 
For the day of triumphant, beneficent light : 
Shout, O Earth's multitudes, shout ! 

Higher! Higher! Higher! 
Crown with thy glory the noon of the year ; 
Master of seasons and lord of the skies, 
Second to Yah Ho alone, the supreme; 
Who moves in thy going, and shines in thy beam ; 
Whose strength doth thy glory from darkness redeem, 

Who, only, is mightier and higher. 

As his wondrous notes did flow, 
Swept the lyre the charmed bow ; 
And its mighty spell did throw 

Over all ; 
Chained was every heart and tongue. 
As the golden numbers rung. 
Thrilling, whelming every spirit. 
Every soul that host among. 

Great and small. 

Through the courts about that spread. 
Where the aisles through cloisters led ; 
Through th' adytum dim and dread ; 
Through the chancel high o'er head ; 
Rolled the sound ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 101 

Rising, spreading, swelling still, 
All of heaven it seemed to fill : 
Trees and curtains felt the thrill, 
And the altar flame stood still : 
Pillar, wall and pavement trembled. 

All around : 
And the monarch of command. 
And the maid with veil and Avand, 
And the flamen with his ephod ; 
And the captain with his brand ; 
And the spearman with his buckler. 
And the tiller of the land ; 
And the shepherd with his girdle, 
And the servant with his band ; 
With the beggar, sank with rapture. 

On the ground. 

Yet the anthem scarce had ceased, 
When a hoary-headed priest 
Cried, with voice of perturbation. 
Who is this doth mar our feast. 
And defile our sacred mysteries. 

Thus so long ? 
'Tis a stranger of the plain, 
None of all the priestly train, 
None of all th' elected singers ; 
One with naught of consecration ; 



102 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Who hath dared with voice profane 
Mingle strange unholy strains 
In our song. 

And the chanters cried as well ; 
There is evil in his shell, — 
'Twas a daemon's evil presence 
From its sinful numbers fell — 
Not in mortal hand such spell 

E'er did lie. 
And the hierophant came near, 
Crying who hath brought him here ? 
This is blasphemy we hear ; 
He hath sung the praise of Yah Ho — 
By our sacred laws severe, 

He must die. 

And the multitude did shout, 

And the cry arose all about ; 

He hath brought the wrath of Mathro 

On the land. 
Soon the famine's curse will fall. 
Over field and vineyard all ; 
We shall perish great and small. 

By his hand. 

And the tumult wilder grew. 

All the courts and temple through ; 



The Song of the Waiibeek. 103 

And the maidens of the chorus, 
Veiled and mantled, all withdrew 

From the strife ; 
And the priests retired afar, 
Where the i^ards brought Klo-lo-war, 
To the council of the flamens ; 
For his deadly crime to answer, 
At the pontiff's awful bar — 
At the judgment seat of Mathro, 

With his life. 

With his lyre of wondrous sound, 
With his azure girdle bound. 
With his choral garland crowned ; 
In that ghostly court of terror, 
W^here no pity might be found ; 

Did he wait ; 
And the Ilierarch in the east. 
To the tbrong of mitred priests. 
Spoke the awful law of Mathro, 
And the council when he ceased, 
From tlie greatest to tlie least. 
Uttered all, the doleful sentence 

Of his fate. 



But the maid who wandered lone 
In the garden by the stone, — 



104 TnK Song of thio Waiii{kkk. 

lly the ancient rocking* stone, — 
Slie, tlie fair Lowiel, who listened 
To the lyre's enchanted tone ; 

Came with })rayer, — 
To the king- with tcnirs and ])rayer, 
Yet the singer's life to spare; 
Saying, wherefore shonld he perish \ 
What the evil lu^ hnth done? 
Who of all th' elected singers, 
With this (chanter of the sini 

May compare ? 

If then save him, he shall stand. 
As a jewel of thy hand ; 
He hath ]>ower to win all mortals 
To the love of thy command, 

By his shell— 
Tf his song indeed were harm, 
Whence the wonder-working (iharm 
Which came down npon all spirits, 
At the moving of his arm ? 
Surely, truth he sang of Yah I To, 

Wrought th(^ s])(^ll. 

Tlu^n th{> king couimandnuMit gave. 
To the ])riests, his life to save; 
'Till he come before his presence, 
In his hall ; 



Tin-; SoNCi of thio WAiinFJOK. 105 

And they l>n)Ui»lit liiiu to tlu^ llii-ono, 
Wlicrc li(> lordly slood alono, 
'Mid the captains, guards jiiid licralds, 
All nnknowing and uid^nown ; 
And his manly boanty shone, 
As the fairest and the rarest 
Of tlKM.i all. 

Said the kiii<»- vvilli solemn i)r()w, 
Answer tridy io \\\o now; 
What thy name and who thy father; 
And what oonntryman art tlion ? 

Who thy kin<>' 'i 
Also why tliou darest stand 
With th{^ ehaiiters' saercul band ; 
What hath broii^'ht Ihee to the teiii])le, 
With nnhallowed voice and hand, 
Th (5 forbidden |)rais(M)f Y'ah llo, 

Thus to sini!;? 

Then said he, I dwell jivvay, 
13y a silvery billowed bay; 
Of th(^ sea of many wa.t(^rs 

Fn a snnbrii»;ht ^len ; 
In my conntry I am one 
Of the Ohanters of the 8nn ; 
And r came before the temple 
When the worship was begun ; 



106 Ttfk Song of the Wahbeek. 

And the ancient priest did bid me 
Tims to do as I have done ; 
For I wist not praise of Yali 11 o 
Was forbidden in the ehorns, 
Anionii' men. 



When tlio kliii*' lihns far hnd heard. 
Seemed his pity grc^atly s1irr(Ml ; 
And lie spoke as thon<>*h to ntter 
Some benij2^i and friendly word, 

In his canse; 
And the ])ri(^sts w(^re filled wilh <2,"looin, 
And st(X>d silent in the room ; 
For they feared the kini»' woidd save him 
From the swift and fearfid doom 

Of the laws. 

Bnt he said : 1 eome from far, 
And my name is Klo-lo-war; 
I am son of Malk, th(> sliepherd. 
Once a kinp^ renowned in war, 

Years ai!;o; 
With my lyre and bow in liand, 
Do I seek a distant land ; 
Ever hanrdess in my jonmey, 
As T now before thee stand ; 
And no more do I demand. 



TllK 8()N(J OF TlIK WahIUOKK. 107 

Than tho welcome of a singer, 
With the friendly greeting hand, 
As T go. 



Then the king was as aniazed ; 
And his hand andi voice he raised; 
And he smote upon his forehead, 
And his eyes with anger blazed ; 

As he cried. 
Let the curse of Mathro be 
On thy father and on thee; 
Thou art doomed to death already, 
For my deadly foe was he, — 
One who songht to wrest my kingdom ; 
And for this thou com'st to me; 
I have sworn his race shall perish 

With his pride. 

Then to fearful dc^ath they led 
Klo-lo-war with solemn tread ; 
Through the ])alace conrts and gardens. 
Toward the distant scaffold dread, — 
Oft with guiltless cnrrents red ; 

Past the rock ; 
Til en again the princess there 
Came with weeping and with prayer, 
To the lordlv flamens kneeling, 



108 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

As they paused with scornful air ; 
Yet beseeching them to spare 
Yet his golden head to spare 
From the block. 

There did Klo-lo-war again, 
On his lyre awake the strain ; 
And the spell came o'er all spirits, 

As before ; 
And they stood beneath the charm ; 
None could lift a hand to harm ; 
And the rapture grew and kindled ; 
Swaying every heart and arm ; 

More and more. 

And he stood apart and played, 

In the rock's benignant sihade ; 

And the guards and priests grew weary ; 

And the king was sore afraid, 

As the long procession staid ; 

And he walked with hot displeasure 

In his hall ; 
And the singer did not rest 
'Till the sun had sunk to rest, 
And the moon was in the west — 
Still his bow the viol pressed ; 
And the night wind listn'ing waited ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 109 

And the trees with jeweled crests, 
And the flowers with mingled vests, 
And the vines with chaplets dressed, 
Drew with dewy eyes toward him. 
Weeping all. 

And the loving, trusting maid, 
N^or of priest nor sire afraid ; 
^N'ear him coming, ever nearer, 
All the shadowy night time staid 
To the wond'rous music listening 

With the flowers ; 
As she gazed on him alone, 
By the vine-clad rocking stone ; 
Listening, weeping, marveling ever. 
As the enchanted strains did swim, 
On the air and through the spirit ; 
And her soul was all on him. 

All the hours. 

But the soul controlling charm 
Might not urge the mortal arm ; 
And his wearied hand did tremble ; 
Though his heart was strong and calm ; 
And the guards stood waiting 'round, 
'Till the notes should cease to sound 
On the lyre ; 



110 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

And Avhen morning o'er the plain 
Golden sandaled came again, 
Touoliing all the sky and landscape 
With her pencil's colored flame ; 
And the clouds were changing signals 

With the westward mountain spires ; 
Kose his death song's swelling strain, 
Sweeter, fuller, loftier flowing. 
As his soul did something gain, 
Of the wond'rous life of pain ; 
Such as withering flowers regain ; 
When their tortured stems are writhing 

In the fire. 

"Wake Song and Lyre, awake! 
Bound, bound my heart, though every throbbing wild 

Another tortured string forever break ; 
The soul of music dies with Malka's child ; 

Soul, shell, and song, awake! 

Ye plaining notes of woe. 
And joyous accents of the festal lyre; 

Be mute before the mighty passions glow, 
Whidh sweeps my soul, and Avhelms in awful fire, 

The notes of joy and woe. 

With throes of mightier strife. 
And wilder ardor as my life blood chills ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. Ill 

My straining spirit grasps ; but not for life — 
ITot such poor triumph could my bosom thrill 
With this delirious strife. 



Above all things of earth, 
My soul exults, while grosser vision fades ; 

To win the light which croT\Tis celestial birth — 
Which fires with ecstacy these mortal shades 

Above all things of earth. 

Farewell thou god-voiced lyre ; 
In stranger hands thy melodies will die ; 

The love-winged notes which kindled all thy fire, 
Shall slumber hushed where Klo-lo-war shall lie ; 

Farewell, thou wond'rous lyre. 

Before my soul appear 
Ghosts of my fathers, heroes, prophets all ; 

Ye bend to greet me to your peaceful sphere ; 
Thou reverend sire, I come, I hear thy call ; 

Before thy form appears. 

To all your triumphs high. 
Receive your stricken offspring from his woe; 

\\Tio knows to live, may haste as ye to die 
To spurn the joys, the pangs which earth can show, 

To win your triumphs high. 



112 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Behind the gathering gloom, 
Bright childhood's joys, and hopes of youth retire; 

Smiles of the living, memories of the tomb, — 
All earth-fonnd bliss and hopes and fame expire. 

Behind the closing gloom. 

All, all, bnt Love, alone — 
But this shall gird and crown my soul as here ; 

When in the realms of light and truth unknown, 
Ecstatic life shall fill its ample sphere, — 

Love lives in death alone. 

Triumphant now my song, — 
Now baffled malice, let thy javelins smite ; 

The immortal fires unquenched in blood, grow strong ; 
The soul of Klo4o-war to bear to loftier flight, 

And more triumphant song." 

As the winged notes did soar. 
And the tide of passion more 
Through his fervid soul did pour. 

He did seem, 
As a form unearthly bright, 
Such as mocks the wildered sight ; 
Half disclosed and half unreal. 
In the uncreated light 

Of a dream. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 118 

And the cheeks of all grew pale, 

And the stoutest heart did fail ; 

And the earth swam back before them, 

As his rapture did prevail ; 

As the thronging concords mingled 

On the shell ; 
'Till when sunlight's silver gleam 
On the purple heights did stream, 
Fell his pulseless arm beside him, 
As his vision caught the gleam ; 
And the bow upon the greensward 

Broken fell. 

And the multitude about, 

On the instant gave a shout ; 

And the guards with brandished weapons 

Pressed upon him from about 

For his life ; 
And a mighty tumult grew. 
And their bows the archers drew, 
And their bolts the spearmen threw ; 
And the flinty winged missiles, 
Pierced his bosom through and through ; 
And his blood was on his mantle; 
On his choral girdle blue ; 
And his golden locks were trampled 

In the strife. 



114 The Sono of the Wahbeek. 

But Lowiel the maiden true, 
With her mighty love, which grew, 
In the lovelight of his presence 
Which no terror might subdue ; 

By him kneeled ; 
For his glance seraphic shone 
With a mystery all its own, — 
With a charm above the tone 
Of the melody enchanted ; 
And its light to her alone, 

Was revealed. 

And the crimson, flowing tide 
From his heart, her mantle dyed, 
As they tore him from her side, 

In their haste ; 
But the flamens cried forbear ; 
It was wrong to smite him there ; 
For the sacred laws declare 
He must lie where he is slain ; 
And his sepulchre profane. 
On this sacred spot and fair. 

Be a waste. 

Then a grave they quickly made. 
Where his manly form was laid ; 
And the multitude withdrawing, 



The Song of the Wahbeek. i15 

Left him resting in the shadow 
Of the ancient rocking boukler, 

Sweet and calm ; 
And the trees with bending crowns, 
Cast their morning jewels down; 
And the vines of odors rare, 
Shed their incense o'er him there ; 
And the flowers bent down their frontlets, 
To the singing summer air 

With its psalm. 

And the spirits of the grove 
'Round him curious garlands wove; 
iVnd they gave the maple fair, 
Golden tresses of his hair. 
To the violets weeping there, 
Tints his azure eyes did wear ; 
And the honeysuckle golden, 
Of his crimson blood did share 

With the rose ; 
And the winds did catch a tone 
Of the lyre's expiring moan ; 
And their gentle breathings murmur. 
And their tempests sob and groan, 
'Round the ancient rocking stone : 
Which his monument forever 

Both repose. 



116 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

But Lowiel in all her woe, 
To her people might not go ; 
For the blood of the blasphemer 
On her hands was seen to flow ; 

And she staid 
By the spot whereon he fell, 
By the broken bow and shell ; 
Where the vine roof friendly mantled, 
O'er the flowers which watched as well ; 
Where within its silent cell 

He was laid. 

And the days went slowly 'round 
With their summer glories crowned, 
But her life was swiftly passing. 
In a fatal circle bound 

Evermore ; 
And the autumn's golden hours 
Came and lulled the wearied flowers; 
And the wintry winds came weaving 
Dusky mourning for the bowers ; 
Wrought of seared and shattered garlands 

Which they bore. 

Through each dreary wintry day, 
Ebb'd the maiden's life away ; 
Only one, a captive princess. 



The Son(} of the Wahbeek. 117 

From a country far away, 
Dared to clasp her hand or stay 

By her there ; 
All her courtly maiden train, 
Shun'd the hand of the profane, 
Who had loved th' accursed blasphemer; 
And beside the worshiped slain, 
Ever waiting, ever wai lino- 
Must the bride of grief remain 

In despair. 

'Till a grand trium])hal feast 
Called each captain, lord and priest, 
To the curious, ancient palace ; 
North, and south and west and east 

Came they all ; 
And among their host a guest ; 
Stranger warrior from the west ; 
Famed for deeds of wond'rous prowess ; 
One of matchless arm possessed, 

Fair and tall. 

In the palace chambers grand, 
Gathered many a courtly band ; 
Lords and magnates of the land ; 

Warriors strong and bold ; 
And the guest his honors bore 



118 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

ISTobly there on field and floor ; 
With his heroes twenty score ; 
Men of brave and goodly presence — 
On his head a plinne he wore, 
And a cur ions sword he bore ; 
And his ringing shield of copper 
Flashed with jewels, which before 
Were a nionarcli's chosen store, 
In a land of old. 

And when amber light was thrown, 
From the evening's golden zone; 
Walked he past the conrts and gardens 
Towai'd the ancient rocking stone, 

With its bower ; 
For his spirit ever wrought 
W^ith his memory whom he songht, — 
Ilim the shepherds named from childhood, 
Xlo-lo-war of happy thought ; 
And the feast to him was naught 

In that hour. 

By the rock he slowly passed, 
And his thoughts upon it cast; 
When he saw the lonely maiden 
Tn the twilight shadow kneelins: 
On the sere and withered grass — 
And he came. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 119 

Sayiric^ ^"cntly, ''Who art thou ? 
Wherefore tlms »o sadly bow ? 
Tell, T pray thee, whence thou comest, 
And thy name." 

Then the princess in surprise 
Spoke with tears and broken sighs, 
Telling all his fearful story 

And her own ; 
Saying, ''Here his grave is made; 
Where the weeping violets fade ; 
Where his lifeless form was laid ; 
With the broken bow and viol 

On him thrown.'^ 

O, the shock of Man dan's breast! 
O, the woe tliat crushing pressed 

To despair! 
O, the fearful wrath which came, 
Searing all his soul as flame ; 
As with blanching lips to heaven 
Did he cry aloud for vengeance. 
In the smitten singer's name, 
Kneeling o'er his mangled body 

Mouldering there. 

"Grant, O, Yah Ho, mighty sire, 
But thy bolts' devouring fire; 



120 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Let mine arm but wreak this vengeance, 
Then my soul content expire, 

If thou wilt — 
Strike but once with Mandan's hand, 
'Till this despot, priest and people 
Curse with all their blood the land 
To a desert, dire, and damned 

As their guilt.'' 

Then with speed, as sweeps the blast, 

To the palace gates he passed ; 

Like a cloud, whose bolts are mustering 

In their fettered wrath, to leap 

On the oaks upon the steep ; 

And his soul rejoiced before time 

In the vengeance of the hour ; 
Still his father's sword he bore, 
With its charmed blade of yore ; 
And his ringing shield of copper 

Bore the Stone of Power. 

And the stem and mighty guards 
With the brand and buckler hard ; 
As he came within the portals, 

Bade him stand ; 
But he put their blades aside. 
And across the chambers wide 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 3 21 

To the monarch did he hasten; 
And with voice terrific, cried : 
^'Where is Klo-lo-war, the singer, 
I demand ?" 

^^Dost thou come to beard me here V^ 
Cried the monarch, yet in fear ; 
For the eye of Mandan smote him. 
As the piercing of a spear, — 

^^Who art thou V 
"Son of Malk, whose blade hath greed 
On thy forfeit blood to feed — 
Thus the curse of Yah Ho smite thee 

Here and now/' 

And he clove him to the breast. 
As the guards about him pressed ; 
But no hand might stay his weapon ; 
And he smote them dowTi as thistles 

To the floor. 
Mingling corpses great and small. 
Lords and priests, and servants all. 
And his heroes at his call. 
Leaped as lions to the slaughter ; 
And they smote through court and hall ; 
'Till a span in depth about them 

Flowed the gore. 



122 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

And the captains strove to smite 
Upon Mandan, left and right ; 
But the Stone of Power defended ; 
And they sank before its might, 

Great and small; 
'Till their Chieftains sank amazed ; 
And the spearmen cowering, gazed 
At the sword of Rhim, which blazed 
In the fearful hand of Mandan 

Over all. 

Neither fight nor fly could they ; 
But in terror palsied lay ; 
For they saw again the singer, 
And the fearful wrath of Yah Ho 
Struck them helpless in dismay, 

To the ground; 
And 'till morning ran their gore ; 
Every stroke fell twenty score; 
'Till no more to fill the slaughter 
Upon garden, field or floor 

Could be found. 

All the temple, gate and spire; 
All the palace wrapped in fire. 
Spreading crimson on the heavens ; 
Was the awful funeral pyre 

Of the warrior and the priest ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 123 

And throughout the spacious plain, 
Did but ruins black remain ; 
For the hand of Mandan's vengeance, 
Smote with sword and flame around 
To the kingdom's farthest bound ; 
Perished city, cot and hamlet, 
Until forty days went 'round. 
Ere he ceased. 

While the temple's flame was red. 
To the rocking stone he sped ; 
For the lone and holy maiden 
Who was waiting by the dead ; 
But too late, for she had fled 

Far away; 
Like the broken viol's tone. 
Like the lily's odor strown ; 
On the wailing winds of winter. 
Had her spirit passed, alone, 

From the day. 

This the ancient singer told — 
This and more; that Mandan bold 
Laid a curse upon the kingdom. 
Which a thousand years should hold ; 

And with care 
Did he lay the maiden low, 



124 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

With the shell and broken bow, 
Where the smitten singer slumbered. 

With a prayer ; 
And the trees did mourn in woe ; 
And the vines did wailing throw 
Weeds of mourning on her bosom ; 
And the winds of winter strow 
For a shroud their purest snow, 

On her there. 

And across the plains away 
To his land that distant lay. 
By the rolling Gitchee Gummee ; 
By the silvery billowed bay; 

Did he go. 
And the Stone of Power he gave 
To the Gitchee Gummee's wave ; 
Saying, "This shall be thy dower — 
Toothing more doth Mandan crave 

Of his foe.'' 

And the rock doth stand alone, 
Tn the wintry tempest's moan ; 
In the summer's golden splendor. 

Until now. 
But it mourns the forest shade; 
And the vines have long decayed ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 125 

And the sombre moss and lichen 
Have their badges wider laid 
On its brow. 

And when evening's light hath fled, 
And the night is dim and dread, 
And the stars are overhead ; 
And the spirits softly tread, 
In their undiscovered wand' rings 

On the air. 
Comes a wailing, sobbing sound 
On the dewy winds around ; 
The memorial of a sorrow. 
Which the night forever keepotli ; 
Of the maiden who was bound 

In despair. 

This the tale there was of yore ; 
Which the singer told before ; 
He whose words are with the echoes 
Of the language heard no more, 

Since the earth grew old ; 
Those the deeds which few may dare; 
That the love on earth most rare ; 
Which the love recording angels 
Wrote in jeweled symbols fair; 

On their leaves of gold. 



126 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

This the ancient singer told — 
This and more in days of old ; 
Of the giant rock of old, 

Standing lone; 
With its strange and massy mould, 
This the song unsung by any ; 
And the mystery unwritten, 
And the history untold 

And unknown. 



Low sank the tones of the Spirit in ceasing ; 
Still was each voice, and the light slowly waning, 
Swam as the glow of a nebulous lustre 
Seen in the distance of vanishing visions, — 
Flashed the red stars on the smoky horizon ; 
Through the dim, ivy-bound, phantom-like aspens,— 
Still were all voices of night in the forest ; 
Silence came wrapping the hearts of all living, — 
Thoughts of the past, and its shadow-bound secrets 
Thronged to the souls of the listeners who waited. 
Moved was the sage, as he silently pondered 
O'er the dark problems of man and his destiny, — 
Mute was the chronicler, reckoning of ages — 
Still was the hoary-browed priest, for his spirit 
Toiled in the webwork of inward revealings ; 
Wrought with the things of the old revelations ; 
Tracing the blendings of fable and truth. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 127 

Still was the poet, whose soul with the singer's 

Walked hand in hand through delectable regions ; 

Realms of the soul world, within, and above ; 

Far off was earth with its tumult and wailing ; 

Vanished its cruelty, vengeance and folly ; 

'Round him were spirits whose heart throbs are symphonies 

Murmuring in melodies known to the blessed. 

Words of that language whose strains are beatitudes — 

Holiest communings of wisdom and love. 



First spoke the theologue: '^ Strange is thy story. 
What thou hast told is as words of a dreamer, 
Something of wisdom commingled with folly ; 
Something of truth, with the falsehoods of fancy ; 
Such as are all things of fabulous lore ; — 
Such were of old the wild stories of heroes ; 
Such were the shadowy words of the hierophant, 
Speaking of knowledge, in language of sorcery ; 
Drawn from the utterings of sibyl and pythoness, — 
Such was the stuff of the lore of the Brahmin, 
Sachem and sagamore, druid and skald. — 
Textures of rottenness, robes of confusion ; 
Wrought of the fragments of Babel and Ammon , 
Eked, with some shreds of Truth's glorious mantle ; 
Torn in her passing from Enoch to Abraham ; 
Left among brambles by David and Paul ; 
That which was rent and divided among them, 



128 TiiK 8()NG OF THE Waiibeek. 

First by hor servants, and last her accusers; 
Bartered in slianiblcs for trinkets of niarrnnon, 
Cast among ni}>bish, yet soup^ht in liif>b places, 
Seen by the wayside; rejected of all. 

Philosopher. 
Why art tliou silent? 

Fain wonld 1 hear thee s])eak yet of ca'cation; 
S]>eak of the things which lie sealed with its mysteries; 
lliings that were born with thy manifold changes, — 
Se<rrets of nature, withheld from her worshipers, — 
Sought by the gh^anei's of knowledge in vain. 
Tell mo, I })ray thee, 

Whence hast thou come, and what time was thy birthnight? 
Wliere hadst thou dwelt, ere thy bed was this rubbish ? 
Know^st thon at all of the mountain and sea wave ? 
What are the things of thy life on the plain. 

Spirit of the Wahheeh. 
Have not [ been since the eons immeasured ? 
Times wliich none lower than angels hath reckoned. 
Far, far beyond the dim bourne of man's kenning — 
Far as the uttermost arch of that (niuseway 
Songht to be reared by the wand of the geologue. 
Tottering and broken, 

Based on the rubbish of mingled destructions — 
Seen by the flickering torddight of science, 



The Sono oi*' tuk Waiibeek. 129 

Spanning the cliasnis where years are as atoms, 
Back from the brink of all hnman beginnings, 
Toward the black wastes of priniordijil iiiglit. 



Have not I slept in the depths of the oceans ? 
Oceans, whose hot billows rolling in darkness, 
Smote the black ])ortals of night-shrouded caverns — 
Billows whose voice ever hoarse on the midnight. 
Wailed for the c>oming of snnbeam and star — 
Oceans which after, 

Chimed in her welcome the glory of morning; 
Uttering the anthem which rose on the firmament; 
Echo'd by emnlons island and mountain, 
'Eound Earth's fnll circle Te Deum laudawus; 
Chonis'd through ages by jubilant voices; 
Deep unto deep with the voice of the waterspout. 
Shore unto shore with the truinp of the cloud. 

Have not I towered on the brink of the pr('cif)ice. 
High where the eagle waxed faint in ascending; 
High where a whisper seemed heard in the stars? 
These, aye, and more, have I heard, have T witnessed, 
Ere I came hither to mingle with these, — 
Oaks which are sprung of the moulderings of yesterday; 
Hills which were dust in the valleys of yore — 
Streams which were bom since I sang in their requiem, 
Requiem of continents perished before. 



130 Tjie 80 N(^ of tjie Wahukek. 

Tliroiio'li tlio birtli of Innd and occnii ; 

Long, tlirongh darkiioss mid commolion, 

In the dim and doleful slijid<>ws; 

Left of cliaos — 
In tli(^ eartli-invosting* shadows over iioating from tlio ])ole; 

(^onntod I the nights and niorninjU's, 

Not by signs vvliicli hall llu^ dawning, 
When Aurora's azure j)ortals now to mortal eyes unroll ; 

Not by human vision, bounded ; 

Which by fuller light confoundod, 
Wond'ring sees hy aid of dai-kuess, what 1ho uiighty heavens un- 
fold, 

But by hidden tokens dwelling 

In the heart of matter, t(^lling 
How the orbs of vast ei-ealion in their mazy cycles roll ; 

How the mighty suns eternal, 

TTrged by ceaseless power su]^ernal, 
Turn iheir llaming disks in heaven, holding in their stcM'U control 
All the grand iind awful systcMus, all the ponderous orbs which 
roll 

Through the circle of existence; 

Through the unimagined distance — 
Worlds of majesty and glory, ])arts of that stu])(Midous whole, 
Wliereof nature is the body, whereof God alont* the soul — 

Moving in unending mazes, 

From the fjiintest star which blazes. 

As the needle, 



The Song of the Waiibeek. 131 

Answering by its untaught motion — 

Resting on tlie plain or mountain, 

Rocking on the heaving ocean ; 

Ever hails tlie steady pole. 

Slow, the orders of progression, 

In a measured, told succession, 

Each more perfect, one by one ; 

Wheeling u]) in grand procession, 
From the crypts of ancient darkness, to the chancel of the sun. 

Silent as a vigil holy — 

Quiet as the trained band workmen, 

And the fitted ashlars cliosen. 
Came to form the mystic temple ; such as earth hath seen but one ; 
With no jar of harsh-toned metal, 'till the perfect work was done, 

Silent as a vigil holy. 

Passed with folded banners slowly. 
Up the avenue of sliadows, through tlie ''periods," one by one, — 

Shadows blending, deep'ning, })aling; 

Like the sj)ectral gloom ]irevailing 
In old minsters when the waning moonbeams piece the night 

cloud dun. 
Ever pauseless through the shadows, waxing paler one by one. 

Philosopher. 
What the ages ? tell their number, 
Held by chaos undivided, ere the measured times begun — 
Number of the years ere angels, hailed the seasons of the sun ? 



132 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Spirit of the Wahheek. 

What the number ? Couldst thou know them, 

Should the recording angel show them, 
To thy dim and halting vision, blazoned on th' eternal scroll ? 

Hast thou passed the lieaven's third portal. 

With the cherubim immortal. 
Spanned the courses of the seraphs, that thy mind should grasp 
the whole? 

Hast thou told the things around thee ? 

Do their multitudes confound thee ? 
All the grains of summer's treasures, when her harvest billows 
roll? 

Go and first their reckoning tally 

Blossoms of the hill and valley. 
Count the prairie's golden bugles, note the sea shells in thy scroll. 
Tell the atoms of the mountains ; fix and comprehend the whole. 

Is not that to come eternal ? 
Would it sen^e thee now to hear it ; what the years that yet shall 

roll, 
Through th' eternity which stretches onward to creation's goal ? 
Have his years elapsed been fewer, who duration's course con- 
trolled ? 
Is he yet an infant ruler, and his works of recent mould ; 

That a mortal eye should scan them ? 

That a human mind should span them ? 

And the eternal past unfold ? 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 133 

Yet 'twas so the mandate came, 

Bidding light on earth arise ; 
And the darkness lost in flame, 

Vanished from the troubled skies. 



Fires that wing the beam of day, 
All of mist and cloud consume; 

Sink the ancient shades away, 
And the earth is dressed in bloom. 

Not by fiat's instant force; 

Finishing what ne'er began; 
But in order's constant course, 

Wrought by universal plan. 

That which patient forces ply 

In the web of life sublime ; 
As the countless shuttles fly 

In the restless loom of time. 

Ever plying cause on cause. 

Linked through being's endless range ; 
On the warp of changeless laws. 

Weaving woof of ceaseless change. 

Then the spanning heavens outshed 
All their azure flood serene ; 



134 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Streams their silvery billows spread ; 
Earth her garniture of ereen. 



Seas in dismal gloom that lay, 

Mirrored back the moimtain's side 

Plains which ne'er beheld the day, 
Blazed in sunlight's living tide. 

Floods of glory robed the hills ; 

Like the mantle of the morn ; 
When her glowing urn distils 

All the hues which earth adorn. 

Mountains in their lordly ranks, 
Poured a thousand halos bright. 

O'er their crimson curtained flanks ; 
From their diadems of light. 

Then the stars of morning san2', 
As the bounding orb appeared ; 

'Till the heavenly echoes rang; 
Where the farthest comet veered. 

Then the sons of God on high, 
Welcoming the bride of light ; 

Poured along the upper sky. 
Paeans to creative might. 



The Son(} of the Wajibkek. 135 

From the distant orbs which roll 

In the zodiac's boundless plane, 
To the adamantean pole, 

Swelled the universal strain. 

Theologist. 
Who the wond'rous notes may tell ; 

Who the awful song record ? 
What the strains which man may swell, 

AVhen the heavens do praise the Lord ? 

Spirit of the Wahheek. 
Earth responsive hailed the bands; 

Waking all her sounding choirs — 
Echoed back the chorus grand. 

Sweeping from the astral lyres. 

Thunders chimed in measured notes. 

Forests high, exulting sung; 
Winds upon their viols smote; 

Vales their echo bugles rung. 

Cataracts from their cragged thrones 
Poured their torrents forth in song; 

Cliff and chasm's answering tones. 
Anthems of the seas prolong. 



136 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Rocks and mountains clapped their hands ; 

Oceans danced with all their waves ; 
Beating on the golden sands, 

To the organs of the caves. 

'Twas the jubilee of light — 
Of a world from night set free ; 

Other jubilee as bright, 

Earth had one, and one must be. 

Theologist. 
Truly let mankind be dumb, 

When upon His holy hill, 
He doth to His temple come ; 

Yea, let all the earth be still. 

Truly in that day of light, 

Why should man be there to see ? 

Only angels might unite 
In such glorious jubilee. 

Poet. 
Yes, alone in dreams of ours. 

We the things of Heaven may share — 
If such vision overpowers. 

Who the very scene might bear ? 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 137 

Spirit of the WahheeJc. 
On the tide of being passed, 

Still the march of life went by; 
Sweeping 'round the cycles vast, 

Where the dateless epochs lie. 

All the universe of things, 

Born of elemental strife ; 
All the countless forms which spring 

In the matrices of life. 

All with voice of joyous tone. 

Insect's hum to thunder'^s roar — 
Minstrelsy of every zone. 

Every note which life can pour. 

All and each, with measured tread. 

To the planets' chime serene ; 
Thronging wonders wider spread, 

Grander swept the marv'lous scene. 

To the ^oal of '^periods," where 

Man, the living soul appears ; 
Toward the centuries' markstone fair, 

Pressing with th' uncounted years. 

Here the six prolific days. 

With their wond'rous work is done ; 



138 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Hail the jubilee of praise, 
For the Sabbath is begun. 

Philosopher. 
Yea, 'tis Sabbath Avhere is man — 

Where the living soul is found, — 
All the work by ordered plan, 

Last with human life is crowned. 

Spirit of the Wahheeh. 
Here unrolls the human chain, 

Object of the mighty toil ; 
Inmost of th' unmeasured train, 

Winding from the wond'rous coil. 

All the birth of life complete, 

"All is good," the plaudit came — 
Earth and sea the Avord repeat, 

Heaven with all its hosts the same. 

'Round her finished orb displayed. 

Earth her fairest vestments wore. 
Lamb and lion fondly played ; 

Death his wonted stroke forbore. (^^) 

(13) "Death his wonted stroke forebore." There seems to be no 
doubt that death has always existed among: the animal and vegetable crea- 
tion. The common dogma that death was unknown on earth until the fall 
of man, has no express support in Scripture, and is flatly contradicted by 
the truths of geology. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 139 

Sulph'rous cloud, and noisome blast, 

Sped on dragon wings away ; 
To the caverns deep and fast. 

Where the shackled earthquakes lay. 

Nature's hosts to worship came. 
Bringing gifts of all their store, — 

Sunbeams with the sacred flame — 
Woods their rarest incense bore. 

Seas and mountains poured their spoil ; 

Treasures of the wave and mine ; 
Fields their corn and wine and oil ; 

Mingled for the feast divine. 

Clouds aloft their banners bright, 

CWmson, blue and amber bore ; 
Tinted drops and manna white. 

Scattering on the jeweled shore. 

Forests all their spreading palms 

Wrought as tabernacles fair ; 
Where the melody of psalms. 

Floated on the holy air. 

Chronicler. 
Then, as legends old declare ; 
Which the mvstic leaves record ; 



140 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

In the east of Eden fair, 

Spread the garden of the Lord. 

Poet. 
Then from hidden fountains, forth, — 

Which such streams forever pour — 
East and south, and west and north, 

Elowed the sacred rivers four. 

Theologist. 
Well might earth and sea and air, 

All their powers for praise combine ! 
When o'er Eden's portals fair. 

Rose the tree of Life divine. 

Poet. 
Tree on earth of heavenly root. 

Promise buds and germful bloom ; 
Healing leaves and living fruits, 

Eipening still beyond the tomb. 

Theologist. 
Shadowing earth's imsullied breast, 

Wide its balmy wings it throws ; 
Where in God's own image dressed, 

Man the monarch may repose. 

Feasting on the rapturous scene. 
Radiant as the morning tide ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 141 

Sits the new creation's queen, 
'Mid the lilies by his side. 

All the higher joys of sense 

Waiting on the happy pair ; 
Poured their ecstacy intense, 

O'er the blessed dwellers there. 

All the rapture born of love, — 

All the life whose current rolls 
From the gushing fount above ; 

Filled the first of human souls. 



Poet. 
Well might sinless spirit bands 

Hasten from the mansions bright, 
Of the house not made with hands. 

To the new domain of light. 

Thronging hosts of heavenly mien, 
On the cloud-borne stair appear ; 

Only since at Bethel seen 
In the vision of the seer. 

Theologist. 
Well might man, the lord of all, 
Feel the rapture seraphs know ; 



142 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Ere dishonored by his fall, 
Nature clothed herself in woe. 

Spirit of the Wahheek. 
'Twas creation's higher birth, — 

l^ature's second jubilee; 
Other jubilee of Earth, 

One she had, and one shall be. 

Philosopher. 
Well dost thou speak of the ceaseless progressions. 
Ever more wond'rous through numberless ages, 
On, from the period known to no mortal ; 
Called in the language of man, the beginning — 
On through millenniums. 

Lost in the void which the wise have called chaos ; 
Wanting in language no more than in thought. 
Yet of these things have we heard from philosophy ,- 
Science doth whisper of that thou hast witnessed, — 
Tells that man's life is a thing but of yesterday ; 
Tells that his knowledge, his works are as naught. 
Well am I come that this day I should meet thee, — 
Would thou hadst spoken to sages the ancient ; 
Budha, Confucius, and wise Pythagoras; 
Moses sublime, and the great Zarathustra ; 
Others whose forms by the river of centuries 
Tower as the pyramids loom above ruins. 
Those which stand lone by the desert-bound Nile. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 143 

Chronicler. 
Well hast thou spoken, — 
Well shall thy words fill the imwTitten pages ; 
Those which through ages have waited thv coming, — 
^^ow may I gather the leaves of that volume 
Scattered of old in the tumults of nations ; 
Lost ere the rolls of the Hebrew were traced. 
Nations whose germs lie in depths of the future, 
Yet from thy lips, by my hand may recover, 
Things of humanity's restless career, — 
Secrets of man and his multiplied changes. 
Lore of his races and manifold languages. 
Strange superstitions and multiform worships, 
Known not to pandit, or priest or magician, — 
Lost by the chronicler, hid from the seer. 

Theologist. 
True is thy speaking, — 
Such are the words of the writer of Israel ; 
He who unfolded the story of Eden ; 
He who drew dimly the picture of chaos ; 
Gathering of waters and continents rising ; 
Lights which were ordered for days and for seasons ; 
Plants and all living, and man above all, — 
Bright, though in darkness — 
Bright as becometh the blest inspiration. 
Dark as befitting the vision of man. 



144 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Well I perceive how in all things are written, 
Holiness unto the Lord in the highest ; 
Only He knoweth his infinite plan ; — 
Only He knoweth the wisdom unsearchable, 
Wrought in the web of his merciful plan. 

Poet 
Cease not thy words, for my spirit is leaping, 
Further to pass through thy wonderful story, — 
Long was thy silence, so be thy communing, — 
Speak that my heart may grow large with the knowledge 
Yet to unfold from thy marvelous teachings ; 
Rich with the treasures thine ages have gathered — 
Secrets of life, and of death, and of harmonies 
Filling the infinite orders of being ; 
Yet by the spirit of man unawakened ; 
Yet for the touch of humanity's sympathies 
Waiting on all the sweet chords of the universe. 

Speak that the night may grow bright on my spirit ; 

Lo ! Do not all to thy utterance give ear ? 

Hushed are all beings about thee and waiting ; 

See, the proud oak bends his crown to thy whisper ; 

Softly the wind trips beneath the still maples. 

Quiet the fountain. 

Even the aspens are quiet to hear. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 145 

Spirit of the Wahheek, 
Still in my loneliness, 

Hailed I the evenings, the morns of creation 
Ends and beginnings, — 

Eve the accomplishment, morn the beginning — 
On from the eve of the gathering of v^aters, — 
Morn of the day of the v^ide v^axing continents, 
Ancients of lands, ere the seas were their graves ; 
On, through the multiplied stages of being; 
Ceaseless upspringing of life in its orders ; 
Struggles of sea v^orm and insect and reptile ; 
Turmoil of monsters, of beasts of the earth ; 
On, to the lands v^^hich were chafed by new oceans ; 
Lands where the germs of the nations had birth. 
Saw I the bones of the mastodon perishing. 
Saw the worn relics of dead generations ; 
Birds of strange plumage, and terrible dragons ; 
Beasts which the vision of man beheld never — 
Relics of forest and morass, and wave ; 
Whelmed in the driftbeds of afterwhelmed rivers. 
Sealed in the depths of unsearchable caves. 

On passed the ages — 
Saw I the bison come down from the wilderness. 
Shaking the plains with the weight of his multitudes ; 
Leaving the fields of the north to the ice blast — 
Saw I the terrible march of the snowstorm. 
Yearly invading the empire of flowers ; 



146 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Spreading still further and further his conquests — 
Saw I the bamboo give place to the hickory ; 
Poplars spring forth on the hills of acacia ; 
Eir tree and pine, where the almond had flourished ; 
Ice bergs where floated the nautilus shell ; 
Birds of the pole come to fix their rude dwellings 
On the fair shores where the halcyon had brooded 
^\^ite bears where bounded the nimble gazelle ; 

On swept the centuries, 
Peopling the continents, leading the races 
Forth from the founts of the valleys of Havilah, 
Waters of Gihon and vineyards of Hidekel ; 
Far as the ice-girdled fiords of the northland, 
Far as the climes of the burning Sirocco, 
Far as the southlands embosomed in snows. 
Children of Cain who went out to the eastward ; 
Hunters and horsemen, and dwellers in tents ; 
Tribes and their patriarchs, 
Builders of cities and planters of vineyards, 
Brothers of Vulcan, who smote the hard anvil. 
Craftsmen, who fashioned the sickle and spear, — 
Children of Seth, who were spread into multitudes. 
Herdsmen, with cattle and flocks of the pasture ; 
Pitching their tents by the hillside and waterbrook ; 
Urging through deserts their indolent trains — 
Tillers of earth with the plowshare and pruning hook ; 
Dark'ning the day with the dust of their caravans ; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 147 

Furrowing the valley and sowing the plain ; 
Some to the lands which are spread as the sea floor, 
'Xeath the blue waves of the boundless Pacific — 
Floor of the stormy Atlantic's domain. 

Theologist. 
Those were the years of the long generations ; 
Years when the days of a mortal exceeded 
Those which now measure the life of a nation — 
Time the stem harvester 
Bearing no scythe, but the hour glass only, 
Counted the moments and looked through the centuries, 
Waiting the years which should usher his harvest, 
Eipening afar on the plains of mortality — 
Death with his shaft gathering rust in the quiver. 
Rust of the blood that was shed by the first born, 
Folding his wings sat in silence apart. 

Spirit of the Wahheek. 
Saw I the races grown old in their fatherlands ; 
Spreading their sails to the winds of the oceans. 
Westward and northward — 

Roaming the plains which now spread to the ice-lands — 
Plains which were after the storehouse of ivory — 
On where Hoang pours his turbulent billows ; 
Far as Japan, with her hundred score islands ; 



148 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

On where the merciless shores of Alaska (^^) 
Blossomed of old with the aloe and myrtle ; 
Stemming the waves of the bounding Columbia, 
Rearing their homes in the valleys of jasmines ; 
Vales which looked out on the blue Athabaska ; 
Piling their ramparts along the bright waters, 
Those which rolled deep where the Sangamon shines; (^^) 
Folding their flocks where the slopes of Nebraska 
Spread to the sunbeams their palm groves and amaranths ; 
Sowing their fields by the mountains and rivers. 
Marshaling hosts with the quiver and helmet ; 
Raising the temple and planting the vine. 

Fair lay the leagues of the limitless ocean. 
Under the light of the far constellations, 

(14) "On where the merciless shores of Alaska." The climate of 
the northern regions was doubtless at some time altogether different from 
what it is at this time. The presence of immense quantities of ivory in 
Northern Siberia, and the remains of tropical flowers and trees found in the 
northern portions of North America, indicate that those regions must have 
enjoyed for a great length of time a climate similar to that of the tropical 
regions at present. 

(15) "Those which rolled deep where the Sangamon shines." It is 
an opinion, well supported by the observation of scientific men, that an 
extensive lake existed, covering the region lying upon the head waters of 
the Sangamon, Okaw, Embarras (pronounced Ambraw) and Vermilion 
Rivers, long after the other portions of the West were dry land. This lake 
appears to have been shallow, and was bounded on the south by the high 
ridge extending across the Mississippi and eastwardly across the Wabash 
and Ohio Rivers, crossing the Mississippi at the Grand Tower, the Wabash 
at the Grand Rapids, and the Ohio at the falls near Louisville. 

By the giving away of the ridge, which formerly caused, no doubt, 
a magnificent cataract on the Mississippi, the lake which covered most of 
the State of Illinois, and indeed made one with Lake Michigan, was drained, 
except in that portion of the State above referred to, which seems to have 
been drained very slowly, as channels were worn deeper through the — 

(Note by the Editor. — The author's annotations were never finished. 
He had numbered the poem all through, intending to make copious notes, 
which he neglected to do in the illness and misfortune of the declining 
years of his life.) 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 149 

Those which look nightly on billows antarctic ; 
Realms of the deep where no human eye wandered, 
Xor sail of the mariner cut the horizon ; 
Nor car of the sea-god of after-bom fable — 
Deep rolled the billows, o'er llano and pampa, 
Deep o'er the treasures of Qiiitos and Incas, 
Locked in the sea's hidden coffers of crystal 
Those which thereafter from heights of the Andes 
Mingled their dust with the sands of the vales. 

Philosopher. 
True is thy speaking ; 

Mighty the seas whose broad currents unhindered 
Swept o'er those bulwarks which stay the high rainclouds — 
Else why those masses of wave-moulded fragments, 
Riv'n from hard ledges, and w^rought to minuteness, 
Polished as beads and commingled with atoms, 
Spreading as wide as the leagues of an empire ; 
Far as the course of the river of silver ; 
Deep as the shaft of the gold seeker's mine ? 

Spirit of the Wahheeh. 
Long were the years while the multiplied races. 
Mingled and strove in the land of the ancients — 
Wrought in all art, in all science and mystery ; 
Filling the earth with their wisdom and knowledges. 
Arts and idolatries, 
Craftiness, falsehood, oppression and war. 



150 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

IsTature still cherished her turbulent children ; 

Giving no sign of the terrors impending — 

Calm sat the earth, with her isles as before ; 

Mountains aloft waved their evergreen coronets ; 

Lords of the lowlands, which drank of their cisterns ; 

Seas slept serene on the laps of the continents ; 

Rivers swept on through the empires of commerce ; 

Bearing the tribute of valley and mine ; 

Groves on the west wind shed music and odors, 

Gold-vested harvest fields laughed to the olive yards ; 

Seed time and gathering 

Came with their promise and plenty, as ever ; 

Dews shed their blessings, and clouds poured out fatness, 

Bright in the wake of the storm smiled the cloudbow, 

Beautiful daughter of sunbeam and raindrop, 

Ere her bright zone was the covenant sign. 

Theologist. 
Who hath sought out his dark councils ? 
Who shall declare the unsearchable ? 
Who hath the key unto knowledge ? 
Who shall go up to the highest, 
Through the thick darkness. 
Unto the courts of His dwelling. 
Passing the veils and the cherubim. 
Entering into His secret pavilion. 
Into the holiest. 
Unto tlie light ? 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 151 

Thenceforth returning, to speak the ineffable ; 

Uttering the things which His wisdom hath ordered, 

Whose throne is the arch of the universe^ 

Whose footstool, where angels adore. 

Lo, the earth is before Him as nothing; 

The terrible forces thereof as a vapor ; 

The hills thereof sink at His presence. 

The mountains melt down ere He cometh ; 

The seas become dnst in the glance of His eye — 

The earthquake and whirlwind 

Are only the hiding of power ; 

His messengers no one may hinder, 

!N^or strength in the day of His coming prevail ; 

Who dwelleth and ruleth on high. 

Fhilosoph er. 
Yea, mighty in love and in wisdom — 
He only hath known the beginnings ; 
He only who knoweth the endings, — 
Alpha who is, and Omega — 
The spheres of the universe. 
Those which are clad with His glory ; 
The suns that go forth leading hosts ; 
The globes which pass after, with satellites ; 
Moons in their orders unnumbered ; 
All haste in performing His bidding; 
To lead out the davs and the seasons — 



152 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

The days which are numbered for labor ; 
The night's pious shades filled with wonder. 
The days of His rest who ordained them — 
The seasons that walk with oblations ; 
Winter, who filleth the fountains ; 
Filleth the lavers perennial ; 
Spring, with her odors and garlands. 
Summer, with first fruits of plenty ; 
Sabbath-toned autumn, who beareth 
Bread, and the wine of the sacrament — 
To bring forth the life in all substance ; 
Life in its marvelous orders, — 
The moss on the rock in the desert. 
The cedars the glory of Lebanon. 
Insects that sport in the raindrop ; 
The reptile, which crawleth in darkness ; 
Birds of the air, and all cattle ; 
Man who is formed as his maker ; 
Angels who dwell in the heights. 

Poet. 
The wind and the fire and the pestilence. 
These are his swift executioners 
Walking at noonday, and wasting in darkness- 
The clouds are his banners of terror ; 
The lightnings the glance of his javelins ; 
The thunders the voice of his trumpets. 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 153 

The earthquake the tread of his legions ; 
The whirlwind the rush of his war steeds ; 
The stars of the poles are his sentinels ; 
The planets his handservants waiting ; 
The meteors bearers of signals ; 
The terrible comet with pennon of flame, 
Appears as his swift hastening messenger, 
Ordering the forces aright in his name. 

Spirit of the Wahheeh. 
Thus did he hasten. 

When he came forth as the herald of judgment, 
Herald of terrors which followed his presence ; 
Thus his red panoply blazed on the heavens, 
E'ightlj more terrible ; 

Shedding dismay on the hearts of all living — 
Men gazed with dread as the torch so unwonted 
Lighted the arch of the midnight's pavilion ; 
Filling the heaven as with glare of a death fire, 
Streaming athwart the dark rifts of the smoke clouds. 
Flushing to crimson the wings of the night storm. 
Mocking the sun with its baleful suffusion ; 
The moon as with sackcloth her countenance veiled — 
The spears of the north fires flashed fearful in splendor ; 
The stars waxing pale stood afar off and trembled, 
The winds in their circuits stood still and breathed softly ; 
The seas held their waves and moaned low in the stillness ; 



154 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Beasts of the deserts went forth from their dens ; 
Bears crept for refuge to man's vacant dwelling's; 
Serpents crawled tamely by temple and hearthstone, 
Forgetting their venom — 
Eagles came doAvn to abide in the glens. 

Hark ! A sound of fear, of wonder ; 

Not the hailstorm, not the thunder, 

Uttered from the breadth of ocean, 

Jars upon the stagnant air ; 

Half above and half from under ; 

Mingled sound of shock and motion ; 

Booming, rolling; 

Like to muffled storm-bells tolling; 

When the winds some awful burden, 

O'er the wastes of billows bear — 

Burden of the fate of mortals. 

Which the shipwreck fiends prepare; 

Heard from distant echoing cavern, 

Ere the whirlwind leaves his lair ; 

Nearer, louder, deadlier falling ; 

More, and evermore appalling; 

Rolling inward from the ocean ; 

From the wastes of wave and air; 

Up the coasts, and o'er the highlands ; 

O'er the trembling capes and islands; 

Onward, through the shuddering mountains; 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 155 

O'er the inland deserts bare ; 
Spreading horror everywhere. 

See aloft a marv'lous glimmer, 
Where the southern stars grow dimmer ; 
Bright'ning, spreading to Orion, 
Thwart the heavens its awful glare — 
Not the storm light's sullen glamour, 
'Not the north light's changeful banners, 
Flushing all the arctic heavens, 
Can with that fell gleam compare — 
An aurora austrialis. 
Wrought of hottest flame volcanic, 
Through the seething breast of ocean, 
Bursting to the upper air ; 
Gendered by the secret forces 
Of the teeming fires Ouranic, 
Streaming from the torch prodigious, 
Which its flaming pinions bear. 

See the mighty deep is swelling. 
Toward the northward headlands welling ; 
Rising 'round the land's strong bulwarks — 
All the quivering islands round — 
Islands with their forests waving 
Signals of distress around — 
Longer, louder swell the surges. 



156 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Higher the unseen power urges 
Flood on flood, with stunning sound ; 
Mighty waves as leaping mountains, 
From the rocking shores rebound. 
Rolls the hissing spume its volumes, 
'Till the mountain lieights are drowned, 
'Till the clouds they do confound. 

i : 

Darkness as an ebon ocean. 
Gathers o'er the dread commotion ; 
Where the yawning gulfs are bursting. 
Half the world of waters 'round — 
Clouds whose darkness on the vision 
Presses with a weight of terror — 
Clouds of hissing vapors gendered ; 
Sulphurous as the awful curtains 
Which enshroud hell's inmost caverns, 
Gird the reeling orb around. 

'Now the flames electric leaping. 
Fill the world-wide cloud-pall sweeping- 
Blaze upon the height of heaven ; 
Blaze upon the shuddering ground, — 
Bolts of fiercest wrath unbound. 
From the magazines of vengeance ; 
Swiftest, direst. 
Of the comet's swarming myriads, 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 157 

Smite the valley, field and forest ; 
Smite the crashing mountains down ; 
Cleave the islands to their bases ; 
Hiss through oceans farthest bound ; 
And the unchained thunders pealing, 
O'er the continents resound ; 
And the whirlwinds. 
Gathering all their hidden forces, 
Kush at once upon their courses, 
From their vortices stupendous 
Hurling through the direful blackness, 
Wrecks of forests, cities, temples ; 
With their dwellers ; 
Man and beast and bird and reptile — 
Floods with fire and hail immingled. 
Gush in whelming deluge down. 

'Tis the revel of confusion. 
Back returned from chaos old ; 
'Tis destruction's horrid orgie, 
"Bringing in the retribution 
By the seer's voice foretold. 
Woe to earth's most ancient people; 
Woe to all the lordly races, 
Dwellers in the chosen places, 
Great and little, young and old. 
'Tis the first great desolation, 



158 The Sojs^g of the Wahbeek. 

By the mighty seer foretold ; 

When he graved the t^lvo strong pillars, 

Which the mystic signs did hold, 

'Tis the awful resurrection 

Of a continent imprisoned, 

From its sepulchre of ages, 

From the greedy ocean's hold. 

'Tis the direful ocean burial 

Of a continent grown old ; 

With its kingdoms, tribes and nations, 

Lands most ancient. 

Of the thousand realms of old. 

Hark, the shocks, behold the rushing— 
The divided ocean gushing, 
Eolls in world-wide tumult backward, 
As the heaving mountains rise ; 
Upward from the abyss of darkness ; 
Oozy realms of death and horror ; 
Towering forms as ranks of giants, 
Looming through the cleaving skies. 

Tides of writhing flame and vapor 
On the firmament are rolled, — 
Tides of heaven-bom fires commingled 
With the scathing blasts infernal. 
From the furnace throat of Tophet, 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 159 

Heated to its seven-fold fury — 
Fires for this ordained of old. 



Ocean's bed uplifted showing 

Through its depths the white heat glowlng,- 

Flames whose forked tongues updarting, 

Kaven for other floods to quench them ; 

Eaven to lick the vanished planets ; 

Leap, to insult the stars on high ; 

As the earthquake's arm from under, 

Eends the granite bars asunder, 

With the hidden force stupendous, 

Which its hissing sinews hold, — 

Flame and wave in wild convulsion 

Struggle to the quivering skies ; 

As the mighty waters wrestle, 

With their enemy of old ; 

With the power which all defies, — 

Wrestle for the high dominion 

For the prize they may not hold. 

Clouds on clouds in thickening volumes 
With the waterspout's dread columns. 
Rank on rank rush on tumultuous, 
'Till they wrap the laboring world. 
Eastward, w-estward, hastn'ing, leaping ; 
Over seas and islands sweeping. 



160 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

'Till the circle vast completed ; 
On the land of Cain and Enoch, 
All their terrors are unfurled — 
Rank on rank, sublime, 'till meeting, 
Each on each in wrath is hurled ; 
Burdened with the unmeasured torrents, 
Which shall whelm that ancient world. 

Hark ! the victor chants his triumph ; 
Hear the notes of exultation. 
Swelling o'er a vanquished foe ; 
Wide they float, his crimson banners ; 
Putting out the constellations, — 
Thus his strains of triumph flow. 

Who shall stay my awful footstep ? 
Who may curb the arm of Fire ? 
Who shall meet my breath unsmitten ? 
Who prevent my purpose dire ? 
I, who master nature's courses ; 
Eirst and lord of all her forces, — 
Chief of every form of matter — 
First born of the sons of Chaos ; 
Living still when all expire — 
Is not this my high commission. 
Granted bv th' eternal Sire ? 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 161 

Who hath loosed the swelling ocean, 

When his flowing blood doth curdle 

Under Winter's iron girdle ; 

When his limbs are stretched in shackles, 

'Eound the headland's icy spires ? 

Who hath led his vaunted tempests. 

When earth's flinty ramparts tremble, 

As his summoned billows leaping, 

Through a thousand leagues assemble — 

When they to the clouds aspire — 

Who hath urged his tide wave awful ? 

Who unchained his typhoon's ire ? 

I, who heave the mountain hoary, 

I, who spread the tropics' glory ; 

I, who scorch the trackless desert ; 

I, who rack the huge volcano ; 

I, who sport with heaving earthquakes ; 

I, the spring of nature, Fire. 

Who of all the shining beings 
Sweeping through the empyrean 
Crowning day and night with glory ; 
Suns or moons, or comets dire ; 
Sinks not to a blackened cinder, 
If my flaming pinions tire ? 
I, who lend the sun his javelins ; 
I, who clothe the earth with beauty ; 



162 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Urge the life which springs unceasing ; 
Bidding frigid death surrender ; 
Wake the summer's changing splendor ; 
Pour the fountain from the glacier; 
Paint the valleys' bright attire — 
I, the season's ruler, Fire. 

Man and beast and reptile bless me — 
Suns and moons and stars confess me — 
All shall know me, 

When their ordered tenns expire — 
When I bring the consummation. 
Crowning of all desolation ; 
When I light their funeral pyre — 
When I dance upon the ruins 
In whose embers all expire — 
Is not this my high commission ? 
Is there one shall dwell with Fire ? 

Woe to earth's most ancient people. 
Now they feel my vengeance dire ; 
!Mow^ the newer world I rescue 
From its grave of waves shall bless me ; 
Though it comes through desolation, 
Povired on kindred, tribe and nation- 
Here shall stand my glorious trophies ; 
Here shall wond'ring hosts admire — 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 163 

Hail, ye plains which spread for empires ; 

Streams of might, and towering mountains,— 

Let your leaping cataracts thunder ; 

Let your lordly crests aspire — 

Amazon and Chimborazo, 

With your thousand mighty brothers ; • 

Spread, and tower, ye works of Fire ! 

Hail your awful master. Fire ! 

Hail me Lord, ye globes and seasons, — 

Suns and oceans, bow to Fire ! 

How the fell havoc wrought ruin of nations. 

Far as the shores of the heaving Atlantic ; 

Far as the uttermost isles of the oceans ; 

Sweeping whole kingdoms from life and remembrance, — 

How the fierce strife of the elements ended ; 

Ocean, though conquered, his kingdom divided, 

Shouting his victory over the living ; 

Gathered his waters together in sullenness, — " 

How the dark clouds to his bosom retreated. 

Till the glad Sun shedding life upon all things. 

Beauty and solace, and blessing recalled, — 

How they came forth, the sojourners of Ararat, 

Hailing the cloud-bow the signal of promise ; 

Which still from the gloom of the thunder-cloud shining, 

Symbols forth life o'er the wake of destruction — 

These are the thin2:s which Chaldean and Hebrew 



164 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Rescued of old from tlie wrecks of the ages, — 
Told in the legends of tribes of all regions ; 
Lore of the pandit, and sachem and skald. 

Why should I tell of the things which are written ? 
Man hath his chronicles, there let him search them. 
Why should I tell what his race hath forgotten ? 
Those who boast knowledge which came of their fathers. 
Races whose ancients were builders at Shinar, — 
Is not the wisdom of God in their volumes ? 
Why come they hither to learn in the wilderness. 
That which their sages preserved not of old ? 
Those were not nigh me in days of antiquity ; 
Others were with me whose memory hath died ; 
Crouching with fear at the tempest which spared them. 
Shouting for joy when its fury abated ; 
Rearing the altar, and burning the sacrifice; 
Waking the sounds of all musical things ; 
Cymbals, and organs, with voice of the trumpet. 
Psaltery, and flute, with the viol of strings. 

Nations who perished or ever the red man 
Chased the wild elk, by the ^'Mother of Waves," 
Builded their fortresses. 

Planted their vineyards, and reaped in the valleys. 
Worshiped in temples of marvelous fashioning ; 
Some of Idolatry, 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 165 

Some of Jehovah, the ancient of days; 

Mingling with wisdom, devices of folly, 

Dark Ophiolatry, fetich and sorcery ; 

Legends long perished with flamen and shrine — 

Wearing the lambskin, with badges satanic ; 

"Signets of Truth" with the symbols of falsity — 

Builded their monuments, set up their sepulchers, — 

Strangers inhabit their places of graves. 

Oft in my solitude saw I their journeyings, 

Oft did their patriarchs rest by my side ; 

Rising to greet with libation and incense, 

Poured on my bosom, or waved in the censer, 

Morning's first beam on the lazulite skies. 

Oft when the mantle of winter was girded 
'Round the bleak hill top, and wilderness hoary, — 
Oft when the snow shroud was white on the plain ; 
And the tall ash bore his jewels of frostwork. 
Passed the dark files of their steel-belted champions, 
Silently bearing the quiver and targe, — 
JSToiselessly pressing the path of the cougar. 
Breathing in language none living may utter. 
Curses too deep for the ear of the morning — 
Muttering of vengeance too black for the light. 

Oft when the light of the sunset was burning. 
Far o'er the shimmering hills of the evening land. 



166 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Purple savannahs, and valleys of shadow, — 
Oft when the dewy rose worshiped the love star, 
And the soft twilight, 
Fled to the islands of spices away — 
Oft when the harvest moon poised in the azure, 
Swung like a gem on the brow of the orient ; 
When the low south wind was waking the odors — 
Odors which slept in the censers of autumn — 
Hasted the bevy of shell-cinctured maidens, 
Spreading their locks on the breath of the night, — 
Hasted the youths from the purple-clad vineyards, 
Forth by the fountains which sang to the sycamores. 
Forth by the silver lake's lily-wrought brim ; 
Bounding to strains of the golden stringed dulcimer, 
Leading the daughters of Love in the dance. 

Oft when the Light God had finished his circuit, 

Sweeping the tropical fields and returning, — 

When his bright chariot, flaming in triumph. 

High on the uttermost limit of Cancer, 

Ushered the midsummer tide of the north ; 

Came the high pontiff with baldric and mitre. 

Ancient and reverend, whose locks fell as snow wreaths, 

Which bend the tall firs in the mountains of Utah — 

Bearing the mystic device of the Deity ; " 

Sacred to him who was known as Apollo, 

Mithra, or Baldar in regions afar — 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 167 

Priests of grave mien, and astrologers hoary, 
Those who watched nightly the planets, as Abram 
Did from his summit in ^'Ur of the Chaldees," — 
Bearing strange symbols of mystical meaning — 
Hosts of all ages, with music and garlands ; 
Holding the feast of his annual triumph, 
Who struggled with darkness, and winter ; and victor 
Rose from that death-like embrace to the highest; 
To pour 'round a hemisphere blessing and life. 
High rose the sound of the echoing chorus. 
Filling the vaults of the oaks with its thunder ; 
Music of instruments rolling above. 

These were around me, yet in my solitude. 

Still I reposed 'till the light of their temples 

Sank and expired, — 

'Till the wild scream of the gray forest eagle, 

Rang from the heights of the ivy-clad oaks ; 

Oaks that waxed ancient. 

Deep in the forests that waved o'er their harvest fields ; 

Forests which shaded the place of their graves. 

Slow rolled the years 'till the shaft of the red man 
Crimsoned its barb in the blood of the buffalo ; 
Still I reposed while the moons of the sachem, 
Were counted in wampum of mystical braiding ; 
Still I repose. 



168 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

Long is the tale of the tribes of the forest ; 
Those who now dwell in the land of another ; 
Wand'rers, and wild as their fathers, whose footsteps 
Marked the drear plains of the Calmuc afar — 
Tameless and bold, through the multiplied centuries, 
Roves the fierce red man fulfilling the destiny 
Marked for his race, when beyond the great waters — 
Marked from the days called the "ancient confusion", 
When bands of the lawless went out to the wilderness. 
Chieftains who scoffed at all labor and knowledge ; 
Went with the hunters who served the bad Manitou ; 
Rearing their offspring beside the wild panther's; 
Wandering in tribes to the end of their days. 

Oft rang the war-whoop, and often in triumph 

Oame the proud braves from the conflict afar ; 

Bearing the trophies of merciless victories ; 

Mantles of warriors, and badges of chieftains ; 

Captives for torture ; 

Treasures of wampum, and weapons of war. 

'Round the bright council fire. 

Gathered the chieftains in savage decorum 

Lighting the calumet, 

Brooding o'er wrongs which incited to vengeance. 

Planning new forays on camps of the foemen ; 

Chanting the deeds of their heroes departed ; 

Hunters of old who had wrestled with monsters, 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 169 

Beasts of the caverns, or dragons of marshes, 

Braves who had smitten the foe in his ambush ; 

Or danced when his vsdgwam grew red on the midnight ; 

Or bore the dread torture, and scorned to complain. 

Gone is the chieftain who waved the red war club. 

Oft in the conflict which reddened the plain — 

Gone is the Sachem who bore the dread symbols — 

Symbols which spoke as the voice of the Manitou, — 

Cold is the altar ; 

Vanished the flame from the sculptureless stone — 

Warrior and maiden ; 

War horse and hunter as ashes are stro^vn. 

Swift doth the red man make haste to his fathers ; 

Soon his white brother shall reap o'er his sepulchre. 

But my history marvelous, 

Whence am I come, will I never disclose. 

Man hath not seen when I sat with my brethren ; 

Why should he hear my incredible tale ? 

Soon am I lost in the green vested prairie ; 

Soon am I forced from my hilltop of old, 

Doomed to be crushed by the wheel of progression — 

Only the white man disturbs my repose. 

{The words of the Wahheeh are ended,) 

The figure vanished from the stone ; 
The wond'rous light no longer shone. 



170 The Song of the Wahbeek. 

The night wind from its trance unbound, 
Wailed in the stilly moonlight 'round. 
The fluttering vine and rocking oak, 
Once more the sacred stillness broke. 

The poet sprang as one amazed ; 
Upon the pictured stone he gazed — 
He turned to hail his comrades three; 
But by the rock alone was he. 
He stared bewildered on the ground ; 
But not a trace of man was found. 
He gazed upon the upper air, 
And but the holy stars were there. 
And o'er the shadowy lonely hill, 
He heard the ghostly whi}>poor-will ; 
And far across a valley dark 
He heard his waiting watch-dog bark ; 
And saw the glimmering taper lone, 
Which from his mother's cabin shone. 

He turned, his homeward way to trace, 
Yet loth to leave the wond'rous place ; 
While marveling thoughts his mind enthrall, 
How such a vision could befall — 
Though he had heard the legends old, 
Which of the pictured rock were told ; 
And how it wrought a spell of power, 



The Song of the Wahbeek. 171 

On sleepers at the noontide hour ; 

Who when the med'cine moon was high, 

Within that fair retreat might lie ; 

And slumbering once, no more might wake, 

'Till midnight came the charm to break — 

The charm which thus had bid him stay. 

Through half the circle of a day ; 

And through the sacred night hours dim, 

Had wrought the vision thus for him, — 

Yet pleased he left the fount and stone ; 

The Wahbeek's song was all his own. 

THE END. 



Occasional Poems 



-by- 



Henry Pelham Holmes Bromwell 



Tke Tesselled Floor* 

All hail, ye worthy sons of light, 

Allied in Honor, Truth and Good ; 
Who 'round the altar meet to-night. 

Where we so oft together stood. 
Say, mind ye still the golden band 

Which years of friendship 'round us threw, 
When heart with heart, and hand in hand, 

I walked the tesselled floor with you ? 

Now where our ancient tapers burn. 

The mystic gavel summons all ; ^ 

But some who went may ne'er return 

While changing moons the craft shall call. 
For some in distant lands abide 

And task and journey still pursue, 
Who wore your jewels side by side, 

And walked the tesselled floor with you. 

Aye, long we passed together all 

Life's checkered way through light and gloom ; 
'Now met to throng the festal hall — 

'No\Y gathered 'round the open tomb. 

* Written, on leaving lUinois for Colorado, to the brethren of 
Charleston Lodge No. 35. 



176 The Tesselled Floor. 

On some we placed the badge of trust — 
On some the cassia's branch we threw — 

Gave earth to earth and dust to dust, 

Who walked the tesselled floor with you. 

But yet the jewel's light will shine 

For all the upright, near or far. 
Who walk by plummet, rule and line, 

And follow still the blazing star. 
And still the cable wrought of old. 

Extends the earthly ground-floor through ; 
To bind as one the scattered fold 

Who walked the tesselled floor with wou. 

Then f are-ye-well ; as oft I view 

The ^ ^lesser lights" ascend the sky. 
The old affections burning new, 

Shall bring your distant circle nigh. 
Be this my prayer, though temples fail 

And arch and altar crumble, too, 
When "Judah's Lion" shall prevail, 

To walk the heavenly floor with you. 



T^E Faithful Tyler. - 177 



Tlie Faitkful Tyler 

Hail trusty bearer of the sword, 
Which ever guards the outer door ; 

We greet thee here with one accord, 

And hearts grown cordial more and more. 
Since first thy hand this symbol bore. 

■No sword of war, or cruel hate, 

But Truth's own sign which flaming turns 

Incessant to the narrow gate. 
By which the wanderer returns 
To where the hidden glory bums. 

We pledge thee here with ruby wine. 
And bread which true companions share ; 

The bowl which flows for thee and thine 
We crown with friendship's garlands fair, 
And fruits which old affections bear. 

For thee and thine let years increase, 
While Plenty fills her magic horn. 

To shed through pleasant ways of peace, 
Beyond the Golden- Wedding morn. 
The precious wine and oil and com. 



1Y8 Abraham Lincoln. 

Then bear through time thy symbol bright, 
'Till all thy well-wrought task is o'er, 

When hands which guard the gates of light 
Shall swing for thee the golden door 
Which opens on the eternal floor. 



Abrakam Lincoln* 

Gone are the days of his glory — 
•Days when the multitude listened. 
With Senates in wisdom assembled, 

Words of the leader to hear. 
Fallen is the chief ; and his mantle, 
Cast on the choice of his people, 
Presses like Saul's heavy armor — 

ISTone of the striplings might bear. 

Nay, 'tis the day of his glory — 
Gone but the Senates that listened — 
His is the day of humanity, 
Rising henceforth to its fullness — 

Now doth its brightness draw near ; 
Some may be rulers of senates, 
Some rule the turbulent present^^ — 



* The author was one of the Presidential electors for Lincoln, had 
worked with him in the campaigns, and had a very tender affection for him. 
He was in Congress at the time of Lincoln's death. The poem was first 
published in the Washington Chronicle at that time. 



Abraham Lincoln. 179 

He shall be master of ages, 
Sending the voice of his presence 
On through the ports of the years. 

Death when he smiteth the greatest, 
Pauses till earth shall take notice — 
Waits till the hearts of a nation 

Bleed at one stroke of his hand. 
Death, ere he smote him, the greatest. 
Paused till the world had elected, 
Held the dread blow till a nation 

Quailed at the sweep of his brand. 

Slowly, mournfully, warriors. 
Cast ye the brotherly token — 
Brave was the spirit and noble. 
Firm was the arm that is broken, 

Warm was the heart that is cold. 
Slowly, mournfully, sages. 
Heap ye the dust on his bosom, 
Dust that was form of your master 

Now doth the sepulchre hold. 

Mournfully, slowly, philanthropists. 
Set ye the stones of his sepulchre — 
Plant all ye friends of humanity. 
Evergreens 'round him and o'er ; 



180 Abraham Lincoln. 

Lost have ye, toilers and friendless — 

Brother and champion and more ! 
Slowly, silently, mournfully, 
Backward all from his presence — 
Leave him to rest while his country 
Waits at his feet evermore. 

Oak, do thou guard well his resting. 
For thou art noble and mighty ; 
And thou dost buffet the tempest 

As he did buffet the storm. 
Pine, cast thy shadows above him. 
For thou over-towerest thy fellows. 
So did he tower among others. 

Such were his spirit and form. 

Vine, do thou twine ^round his head-stone 
For thy rich spirit brings gladness — 
So did the light of his presence — 

Crown with thy clusters his tomb. 
Rose, do thou bend o'er his bosom. 
Ever thou sheddest sweet odors — 
Such did the bloom of his virtues — 
Shed o'er his heart thy perfume ; 
Violet shine at his footstone. 

For humble and pure is thy bloom. 



Decoration Day. 181 

Slowly, mournfully bear him 
On to the hill everlasting, 

Calmly serene as his fame — 
There with his people before him, 
Statesmen and patriots lower him ; 
Well may ye bend o'er the ashes, 

Who walked in the light of the flame ! 



Decoration Day* 

Bells of the Sabbath are tolling. 
Dirges in moumf ulness rolling ; — 
Over the breadth of a continent 

Passes the funeral array ; — 
Why are the voices of wailing. 
Banners thus mournfully trailing, 
Sound of the minute-gun booming, 

Where are the dead of to-day ? 

'Not in the bier of the lowly — 

'Not in plumed hearse moving slowly — 

Scattered and silent and lonely. 

Best they where long they have lain, 
Under the fig tree and myrth 



Written for the first Decoration Day celebration. 



182 Decoration Day. 

Home of the love-breathing turtle — 
Under the mountain oak's shadow, 
Under the sod of the plain. 

Fanned by the sea lilies blooming, 
Lulled by the cataract's booming, 
Sleep they in sepulchres nameless. 

Rest they in silence and shade — 
Some where the marble-wrought column 
Rising in stateliness solemn, 
Tells to the multitude passing. 

Here has a hero been laid. 

Bells of the Sabbath are tolling — 
Dirges in moumfulness rolling, 
Sound o'er the breadth of a continent 

Calling to funeral array ; — 
Why are the banners low trailing, 
Whj are the accents of wailing ? 
Sound of the minute-guns booming — 

Who are the dead of to-day ? 

Ask of the mothers who bore them. 
Ask of the sisters who o'er them 
Bend with the incense and garlands ; — 

Ask of our patriarchs gray ! 
Ask of the battle-ground gory — 



Decoratioj? Day. 183 

Pields of the wilderness hoary — 
Gettysburg's ramparts of glory — 
Vicksburg and grand Chattanooga, 
Who are our dead of to-day ! 

!N"ow when the torch of Aurora 
Kindles the east into glory, 
Morn as she passes each hillock 

Gems and sweet odors bestows ; 
Gems of the tears which night weepeth, 
Odors which earth ever keepeth, 
Locked in the honey-sealed censers 

Borne by the lily and rose. 

Bells of the Sabbath are pouring 
Chimes with the anthems upsoaring — 
Over the breadth of a continent 

Throngs with their garlands make way. 
Why is a land in commotion, 
Banners from ocean to ocean, 
Guns of salute waking thunder, 

What is the triumph to-day ? 



184 The World Within the World. 



Tke World Witkin tke World 

The moon above the twilight plain 

But half revealed through amber light, 

Stood waiting 'til her starry train 
Might hail her mistress of the night. 

The mountain heights that walled the world, 
Rose rank on rank, more dim and high ; 

While eve, departing, gently furled 
The gorgeous banners of the sky. 

The lonely buttes loomed huge and gray. 
The vales were all as purple seas ; 

The camp-fires glimmered far away. 
The fire-fly's lamp was in the trees. 

And whispering breezes came to tell 

That Night with all her dreams was nigh ; 

And all about my spirit fell 

The footsteps of the years gone by. 

They walked, the seasons of the past. 
With all their gifts and trophies by, 

The blossom-sandaled Springs which cast 
The light of youth on soul and sky. 



The Wokld Within the World. 185 

And summers with the breath of psalms 

On all their singing breezes borne ; 
And autumn's waving colored palms 

To bless the feast of wine and corn. 

And winters with their pitchers white, 

With waters of libation poured ; 
And morns and eves in olden light, 

Their gems and odors all restored. 

My soul from shoreless deeps of care, 

Returning, as the ancient dove, 
Sat silent by its threshold fair, 

To count the jewels of its love. 

For I was rich in sorrow's store. 

The griefs which welcome love and prayer ; 
And ope to them each secret door. 

By Pleasure fastened unaware. 

What hours went by I ne'er may tell. 
For time and space were not with me ; 

They ne'er with seer or poet dwell, 
]^or share in Love's or Faith's degree. 

When through the dusky vale I heard 
The music of forgotten years ; 



186 The World Within the World. 

Borne on the long lost tones and words 
Which ever mingle smiles and tears. 

The voice which filled my life and soul 
And sealed to love my heart of yore, 

Through all the quickened air did roll 
In melting melodies once more. 

Soon as the notes my silence broke, 
The viols of my soul were strung ; 

The flute notes of my heart awoke 

And timbrels through its chambers rung. 

The melodies without impoured 
To fill the harmonies within ; 

What raptures swam on every chord ! 
How vanished every pain and sin ! 

A newer life transfused my blood, 
A newer light around me fell ; 

The heavens and earth transfigured stood, 
In beauty none may see and tell. 

I saw the hidden world revealed, 

Which lies within the worlds of sense ; 

The Universe in man concealed, 
Keplete, substantial, and immense. 



The World Within the World. 137 

There skies with stars and sunbeams glow, 

On blessed fields and hills and trees ; 
And clouds their rainbow arches throw, 

From isle to isle above the seas. 



There forests wave, and mountains tower. 

And rivers to the ocean pour, 
And valleys teem with fruit and flower, 

And harvests wave on plain and shore. 

For there the primal life o'erflows, 

Which nature's grosser pulse inspires ; 

And light through living ether glows 
Undimmed by touch of solar fires. 

And there the loved and lost have place. 

Who passed from earth with vanished years ; 

They thronged with greeting and embrace. 
All warm with human smiles and tears. 

Nor strange it seemed, for then I knew 

I nightly by their side did stay. 
When sleep her outer veil withdrew, 

And waked me to the inner day. 

And then from all their lips I learned 
'Tis real that which only seems ; 



188 The Oorydon Rose. 

Which we to outer life returned 
Miscall the empty land of dreams. 

Then soul let all thy viols sound — 
And heart, thy sweetest concords roll ; 

The dead are here, the lost are found, 
And all the loved are with' my soul. 



Xke Cory don Rose 

The rose of Shiraz the Nightingale's bride. 

Unfolds its charms 'mid the bowers of pride. 

When the dews come down through the moonlight pure, 

Which floats o'er the gardens of Koh-i-zur. 

Though sweet on the breezes its odors flow. 

By the golden channels of Hin-doo-koh, 

Let it bloom for those who its charms may see, 

For the rose of Shiraz is naught to me. 

The lilies of Paz float fair on the stream. 

When the echoes sleep and the wood-nymphs dream. 

And wave their frontlets of midnight pearls, 

To the brighter eyes of the Chilian girls ; 

Yet not for me do their beauties shine, 

• The author's wife was Emily Payne, of Corydon, Indiana. She died 
a few years after they were married. 



The Cokydon Rose. 189 

!N"or yet for this doth my heart repine ; 

Let them bloom for others though fair they be, 

For rose or lily is naught to me. 

Though lone I dwell, where no scented flower, 
Adorns a wreath for my leafless bower, 
I think not of beauties in nature's fields, 
I sigh not for charms which the wildwood yields, 
But I think upon beauties more rich and rare, 
I sigh for the bloom of a plant more fair ; 
And while I its image in dreams may see 
The beauties of Earth are as naught to me. 

But dreams alone cannot fill the heart, 
And visions but vanishing joys impart ; 
I would gather my fiower to my heart and arms ; 
I would grace my bower with its living charms. 
I would dwell in the circle it renders divine, 
And no heart upon Earth should be near but thine ; 
Then come, my "Corydon Rose,'' and be 
Beauty, and blessing and life to me. 



190 To Emma in Heaven. 

To Emma In Heaven 

Good night, my love, for the queen of night 

Looks down from her sapphire throne ; 
And the star that I named for thee is bright 

On the midnight's jeweled zone. 
But thy Bul-bul voice, and thy light guitar, 

]^o more shall their chords unite ; 
For thy soul in the land of the blest is far ; 

Good-night, my love, good-night. 

Goodnight, my love, I would meet thee there, 

On the shore of some deathless isle ; 
And the fields of the blessed shall grow more fair 

In the light of thy saintly smile ; 
Together we'll roam where the vales of bliss 

Lie bathed in all heavenly light ; 
Where the world of Love has no pangs as this, 

Goodnight, my love, goodnight. 

Goodnight, my love, for I see thy form. 

And thy tones in my heart remain. 
And my soul goes up on the tune wings borne, 

I dream as I weave this strain ; 
And this dream of love shall the hours entrance, 

As the seasons take their flight ; 
And grow brighter still in each sunset's glance. 

Goodnight, my love, goodnight. 



The Capitol Dome at Midnight. 191 

Tke Capitol Dome at Midniglit 

It is night in the quiet city, 

And palace and hut are still ; 
It is night on the broad Potomac, 

And silent are park and hill ; 
'No glimmer of star or moonbeam, 

The eye of the watcher discerns, 
Yet high o'er the great dome's summit 

The light of the tholus bums. 

I enter the grand rotunda, 

The doors swing back as I come, 
Though no hand do I see upon them. 

And latchet and hinge are dumb. 
All void is the spacious circle. 

Every form of mankind is gone, 
Yet high in unseen recesses 

The invisible lamps burn on. 

And the glow of their masked effulgence 

Fills all the great space and height, 
With a magnifying dimness. 

And a glory that wraps the sight — 
A golden and swimming halo, 

A measureless extense; 
A glory of things celestial, 

A dimness of things of sense. 



192 The Capitol Dome at Midnight. 

And the dome's vast concave heightens, 

And the circle immensely grows, 
And the light upon walls and sculpture 

More strange and unearthly glows ; 
On the forms in the painted panels, 

On the pictured gods on high, 
On the pavement's foot-worn ashlars. 

On the statues standing by. 
And all meaner things grow distant. 

And all things sublime draw nigh. 

And lo ! from the panels outspreading, 

From the niches that wider grow. 
Start the old and the new world's heroes. 

Each one and his garb I know ; 
With banner and pennon flashing. 

The glory of many a land — 
With their comrades about them marshaled, 

In lordly array they stand ; 
'Not one, but whose deeds immortal. 

Grave fame to a mighty land. 

And now on the right and left-hand, 
Swing open the massive doors ; 

And from th' ancient Council chambers 
A noble throng outpours^ — 

The men of Congresses olden. 
Who gathered within these walls. 



The Capitol Dome at Midnight. 193 

And their elder and sterner brothers, 
From the old Convention halls. 



And plumed and beaded chieftains, 

Stand with war-club, and offered corn, 
And the blood-red To-ma-hi-ca 

With the pipe of peace is borne — 
The sachems of nations vanished — 

The I^arraganset bold, 
Pequod, and Mohawk valiant, 

As in days of their pride of old — 
The chiefs of a hundred nations 

Whose council fires are cold. 

And near them come Lords and Princes 

Who ruled ere the red man knew ; 
By the silvery Rapahannock, 

By the Gitchee Gummee blue. 
By the flowery Yallaboosha, 

By the Colorado's sands, 
Whose forts were along Ontario, 

And the Mese-Seepee grand. 
They halt, both priest and ruler, 

Where their strange successors stand. 

From the dizzy heights where the frescoes 
From the tympan grand impend. 



194 The Capitol Dome at Midnight. 

Each one with his chosen symbol, 

The gods of Greece descend — 
Mercury with the caduceus, 

Minerva her aegis brings, 
And Vnlcan his hammer awful, 

And Neptune his trident swings ; 
And Ceres bears shell and cycle. 

And the shell of the Triton rings. 

And they beckon their ancient fellows, 

Gods of the Druid and Skald — 
Those which the I^orth-men worshiped 

By fiord, and berg, and wald ; 
And they come from the Ultima Thule, 

From the Volga's billows cold. 
From the plains of the rolling Danube, 

From the North-light's birth-place old; 
From the scenes of their ancient wonders. 

In rune and in saga told. 

And o'er all a marv'lous banner. 

Is woven by fingers unseen. 
Spreading out from the zenith to cover 

With glory the limitless scene ; 
And the East gives the stars of its rising 

And the West its immaculate hue. 
And the North-light, and galaxy mingle 

Their crimson and white with the blue, 



The Capitol Dome at Midnight. 195 

Those mystical colors of promise, 
The red and the white and the blue. 

But slowly the lamps become pallid, 

And a dimness is gathering o^er ; 
And fresco and wide-painted panel. 

Stand back as they stood before ; 
And the statues are in their places, 

And the gods in stillness bend, 
From the dizzy height where the frescoes, 

From the tympan grand impend ; 
And I see through the high-arched windows 

The mom in the East ascend. 

And I pass through the outer portals. 

And the doors swing back as I pass. 
Though no hand do I see upon them, 

And latchet and lock are fast. 
And about in the silent city, 

1^0 mortal the eye discerns. 
And I look to the great dome's summit 

If the light of the tholus burns. 
But Liberty's shield resplendent. 

Alone in the sunlight turns. 



Index 

PAGB 

The Song of the Wahbeek 9 

The Tesselled Floor. . _ 175 

The Faithful Tyler 177 

Abraham Lincoln 178 

Decoration Day _ 181 

The World Within the World 184 

The Corydon Rose 188 

To Emma in Heaven _ 190 

The Capitol Dome at Midnight 191 



MAY 6 1909 



iiiiiBiii 

015 971 



